A Contract Most Inconvenient
by blankfish
Summary: In the aftereffects of the Second Wizarding War and a devastating plague, British Wizarding society is on the brink of collapse. A final desperate measure has been enacted — a Marriage Law that binds one witch to several Wizards, each of which is a perfect match for her to produce the most viable magical offspring. Hermione/multi
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! This story has been heavily inspired by the heap of unfinished Hr/Multi fics out there, most especially Ten Too Many by flibbins. While the first few chapters of my spin on the trope do have quite a few similarities to these, this is is not at all intended to be an outright copy of any of the other stories out there! In fact, considering that they're mostly unfinished, mine will turn out to be quite different by chapter four or so.  
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 **An update that was posted on chapter 16, but belongs here too:** ** **I will eventually be going back to chapters 1-3 and rewriting/reorganizing them at some point in the future. I can't say when for now, but I do want to distance myself from Ten Too Many as much as possible. Although the trope and some of the main plot points are the same, this has very much become my own story past those first few chapters and I want it to reflect that. I'm not happy with the high amount of scene parallels that I wrote in 1 and 3 especially, but it's not a pressing issue for now. These changes won't materially affect the direction of the story in any way, but I will announce when I've done it so that those who want to go back and re-read can do so.****

 **Follow me on social media! On tumblr, I'm blankfishxx, and on Facebook you can add me as Blank Fish!**

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 **CHAPTER ONE**

Hermione Granger sat quietly at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place, staring hard at the glass of water she clutched between her hands. The house was nearly silent, save for its perpetual mysterious creaks and the sound of the ominous-looking clock that ticked in the corner of the kitchen, its ticks somehow nearly deafening in the silence. She lifted a finger and began tracing her fingertip along the rim of the glass, eyes trailing after her scarlet-painted fingernail as she began to move it faster.

It wasn't until a pale hand covered hers that she realized the sound of her thudding heartbeat had begun to drown out everything, including that infernal clock.

"Hermione," Harry repeated, as quietly as though he knew exactly how much any sudden noise would affect her in this moment.

She opened her mouth to answer him, but could only manage a watery smile in return.

"You're supposed to be drinking that," he said lightly, gently using his hands to pry hers off of her glass.

"I'm sorry," her voice was strained, and came out in a croak. "I-"

"Shh, 'Mione," Harry sat down and scooted closer to her, smoothing his fingers through her curls. "I know, I know," he soothed.

His words came seconds before she felt more tears bubble over, leaking freely down her cheeks that had only just dried from the last torrent. "I can't stop, I- I-" she hiccuped before burying her face in her best friend's jumper, taking comfort in the warmth of his solid body.

Grief, she mused, had the strangest ways of presenting itself. It could, for example, manifest itself as an incomprehensible mass of emptiness and pain in a pair of green eyes behind a round pair of glasses as they stood by, helplessly, as their friend's casket was lowered into the ground. Or, it could manifest itself as a mother's horrifying screams that would haunt the dreams of those who heard it, attempting to hurl herself into her son's grave, even as the dirt had become to pile in. It could creep up on you like a thief in the night, appearing suddenly and unexpectedly as you sunk to the ground, broken as you watched the light fade from yet another victim's eyes, only to realize that you hadn't even learned this one's name.

It had only been a year, but that year felt like an eternity. One year since Voldemort's fall, and one year since the true chaos had begun. It has crept up on them slowly, interrupting the post-victory lull only at small intervals, only truly giving cause for alarm once it had been much, much too late.

She'd been finishing the last leg of her accelerated Healing apprenticeship when the first patient had come in. Daphne Greengrass, her fair skin skin looking sallow, contrasted heavily against her gleaming auburn hair. Her breathing had been shallow, and she'd had a fever. Healer Janne has assured her family that it was nothing to worry about, that all the needed was fluids and a few days of observation, and she would be fine. By the time the tenth patient of the day had rolled in, Healer Janne told his spouse that _yes, there was something nasty going around_ , and _no, she needn't worry_. By the next week, they they had sealed off St. Mungo's, having left only a designated area area outside for possible cases to be dropped off because, _no, under no circumstances_ , could those who were already in have visitors.

Even those measures has been fruitless, and within two weeks the borders to Wizarding Britain had been closed. No one out - or in - which meant that, in third week, Charlie hadn't even been permitted to return for Bill's funeral. And when Ginny fell ill in the fifth week, Hermione had had to spend countless nights researching wards and charms until she'd managed to get a muggle phone working long enough for him to tell his baby sister a short good-bye.

Ginny ended up being one of the few lucky survivors. By the end of the second month, Severus Snape had presented the committee of the brightest minds in their community - including her - that Kingsley had gathered with a tentative inoculation, it had been late, much too late, and the mass immunizations they rolled out had seemed practically useless by then, as the plague had claimed all its British victims, dying out as quickly as it had come. It was mainly rolled out in the rest of Wizarding Europe, which had been affected, although not on as catastrophic of a level as Britain had been.

By the third month, they realized how dire the situation had become. Their population had been decimated, and a disproportionate amount of women had been affected, leaving many a family without wives, daughters, and sisters. Even when the borders had finally re-opened, due to the results of their unexpected plague coupled with the recent war, immigration had all but stopped and they were face with a new problem that proved even more devastating than the last - their population had dwindled to a number so low that their reproduction rates could not keep up. As they stood, the British Wizarding Society would cease to exist within a generation. Drastic measures would need to be taken in order to ensure their continuation.

And so Kingsley had re-convened his committee. Hermione and Snape were assigned to repurposing Muggle reproduction technologies into magical uses, and they began by attempting to extract eggs and sperm from willing donors, hoping to grow children outside of the womb, to be returned to their biological parents or fostered by others. Despite the amount of trials they went through over the months, their solutions failed. As Hermione had suspected, conceiving magical children was a much more delicate process than for Muggles, and even if they were to succeed, their tests were proving it likely that it could take years before they could figure out a method that wouldn't produce squibs at best.

As so they moved on to the idea of natural conception, coming up ideas that included incentives and benefits to present to couples should they marry and conceive enough children to help satisfy the requirements. And so they ran the numbers. And ran them. And ran them until they brought in Arithmancy masters who only confirmed what they had suspected. There wasn't enough time, nor enough couples that had volunteered to fill the gap that had been created in their population. And so they were forced to turn to ancient spells, from a time before magic was declared "dark" or "light", where it had just _existed_ , hovering on the sharp precipice of complete neutrality.

The first thing they'd discovered was a way to shorten pregnancies enough that they began to work with renewed hope and vigor, aiming at finding a way to roll out the required amount of pregnancies. Shortly afterward, they stumbled upon what Hermione had since dubbed The Spell. The one borne from a time as desperate as theirs had become, so old that it had fallen out of many history books, only to be replaced over time by things scholars had considered to be more important. History, she recalled bitterly, was always bound to repeat itself, especially once it had been forgotten.

And so Hermione found herself here, now, in the kitchen of Grimmauld place, sobbing into Harry's chest as the minutes counted down to the final meeting where they would officially ratify the new Marriage Law. All too soon, the clock dinged noon, and she clutched him closer for a brief moment before pulling back.

"I have to go," she sniffled, wiping at her blotchy face before padding over to the sink to splash some cold water on her face. "Do I look alright?" she asked Harry.

"Like a beautifully drowned rat," he quipped at her over a slightly strained smile.

She giggled, flicking water at him before they walked to the drawing room in companionable silence. She had her hand full of Floo powder when she felt him clutch at her hand suddenly, tugging her towards him.

"We've always got each other, right?" Harry said quietly, searching her eyes. "No matter what."

"Always," she smiled, this time genuinely. "Always, Harry." She leaned up to kiss him quickly on the cheek, smiling at the slight blush that rose on his cheeks. With one last look behind her, she threw the powder into the fireplace and stepped toward her fate.

 **X**

That evening, Hermione found herself perched at the kitchen table once again, this time clutching a steaming cup of tea tightly between her fingers, staring blankly ahead of her out the dark glass of window. Harry sat beside her yet again, this time anxiously clutching his own cup of tea.

"What if it's Ginny?" he asked quietly. "What if it's her? After everything, after her saying she wanted to live, truly live after she almost died and that maybe, just maybe that life doesn't include me anymore, but maybe, just maybe we'll find our way back to each other, because that's just how the fates work, don't they? That's just what-"

"Harry!" Hermione clamped a hand down over his mouth before moving to smooth it over his cheek, then raised her other hand and began kneading the muscles in his shoulders softly. "Whatever it is - whoever it is - you'll always have me, Harry," she soothed.

He exhaled and nodded, letting his eyes flutter shut under her ministrations before they flew open again a few seconds later. "What if it's Umbridge? Oh Merlin, I'm going to be sic-" A loud thump at the window startled them both, and another joined at as their eyes flashed to the window. Two owls hovered there, pecking at the window impatiently.

"We can still run," Harry broke their frozen silence. "We can live as Muggles again, we could be happy," his wide green eyes looked panicked, and Hermione couldn't help but smile as she reached over to adjust his spectacles.

"I'm not sure how well we'll make out with this law, but I know we wouldn't be able to survive without our magic, Harry. That...that is a fate worse than death," she said sadly. She sighed, standing as she steeled her nerves in order to finally open the window. Before she could take a step, however, The window flew open and the owls dove in, circling the kitchen before dropping their respective letters in front of them.

"Master has a letter!" Kreacher announced happily, his small head bobbing up from behind the table to close the window once more.

"Damn elf," Harry muttered as Kreached departed as quickly as he came, glaring at the letter in front of him.

Hermione didn't bother to admonish him, as her heart was currently lodged in her throat. In the letter before her were the names of up to ten men she would be required to magically bind herself to in marriage, effectively becoming a broodmare. Up to ten men, and she was due to provide at least one child for each. Her heart dropped from her throat to her stomach as she picked up the letter, thumbing her name that was emblazoned across the front in golden script that glittered in the kitchen's firelight.

Her eyes felt surprisingly dry now, and she knew it was because she'd practically cried herself dry in the weeks since they'd finalized the idea for the law and determined how many men each remaining woman would need to be bound to in order to produce as many magical offspring as possible.

She turned to look at Harry, who was staring at her with a fearful expression that she was sure matched her own. "Together?" she croaked.

"Together," Harry nodded in agreement, before tearing his envelope open.

She took a deep breath and tore hers open as well, eyes skimming over the pages of introductory paperwork within, although she practically knew the words written by heart now after having spent all that time drafting them. Her hand shook as she neared the final page before turning it over to look at the first of the pages profiling each of her future husbands, lifting it higher into the light and looking at the photograph that stared back at her from the page. She knew this face, yet she double-checked the name on the top of the page in disbelief.

 _Lucius Malfoy._

A strangled noise, somewhere between a gasp and cry, escaped her then, and she dropped the page in shock, gripping the table hard as she tried to steady her breathing. Ten possible perfect matches for ideal procreation, and the first was a Death Eater.

""Mione?" Harry scooted closer to her, his letter abandoned on the table. She felt a wave of jealousy rise within her then, knowing his page had only one face displayed on it, and desperately wishing hers was the same.

"I can't do this Harry, oh gods, Harry, it's awful, it's horrid," she wheezed, feeling dark circles start to cloud her vision. She dimly felt him reach over and pick up the sheet she had abandoned, and soon felt him tugging at her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"You can do this," he said steadily. "You can and you will. We'll do this together, I promise."

She sank back into her seat, feeling her breathing steady. "I can do this," she whispered to herself, before reaching over plucking up the next page from the pile.

Neville Longbottom's face stared back her her, smiling awkwardly as the camera flashed brightly in his eyes. She breathed out a sigh of relief and heard Harry's identical one from beside her as he read along with her. She put Neville's page down over Lucius', careful to cover the blond man's sneering face from view. She picked up the next profile and smiled brightly at the familiar face looking back at her.

"The Minister's wife, huh?" Harry joked as he read over Kingsley's profile. "Impressive."

She giggled as well, equally comforted and daunted at the idea of marrying a man who she now called a close friend. Her next match was Sirius, who had all but absconded himself from society and its problems since he had been unceremoniously spit back out from the Veil upon Bellatrix's death. He spent his days lounging around the house or visiting Andromeda and Teddy, and had gone to bed early on this particular evening, seeming relatively unfazed by the whole thing.

The next page wiped the smiles off their faces, however. Snape's signature sneer looked back at her, almost mocking the pure shock that had taken over her face. While they had become cordial while working in such close proximity over the months, the could hardly call this a union she was thrilled about.

She shook her head and plucked the next page from the file, resolving to deal with her emotions later. Draco Malfoy stared back at her, and her heart began thundering in her chest once again.

" _This_ prat too?" Harry scoffed loudly. "I am so sorry Hermi-" Harry cut off sharply, and she looked up at him.

"Harry, what is it?" she reached over and plucked the next page out of his hands. He had gone white as a sheet, and when she looked down at the name on the page she soon realized why.

The gods had shown her no mercy, none at all. They had been cruel, so cruel to her that she wondered briefly if there was a moment in time she could pinpoint where she had mucked up so horribly that she had deserved something like this.

Arthur Weasley's kindly eyes looked up at her from the page, and in her shock and disbelief she found herself skimming over his profile, because no, it couldn't have been _that_ Arthur Weasley, surely not him… _seven children_... _previous spouse named Molly Weasley (née Prewett)_...

At this, she felt a sole tear leak down her cheek. Things had already been strained between Hermione and her second family since she'd broken things off with Ron, and with Harry and Ginny having separated, too, she'd distanced herself even more from the family, feeling too awkward to interact with them as easily as she always had. Now, she had been thrust back into their fold in the cruelest way.

"What do I do, Harry?"

"I think you mean, what do _we_ do," Harry said solemnly, pushing over a sheet until she saw her scowling face staring back up at her from the page, before lining it up beside the last page in her pile, which displayed his own.

 **X**

The next morning, she found herself staring down into a cup of tea yet again, her eyes trained hard on the steaming liquid in the cup, studiously avoiding the eyes of the red-haired family that surrounded her at the table. She didn't look up when Harry nudged her, nor when Arthur cleared his throat to speak.

"This has been an...unconventional….time," Arthur spoke steadily, his voice steady despite the tension that loomed in the room. When Arthur had called them over that morning, Molly had turned away at the sight of Hermione without as much of a greeting. Hermione's eyes had filled with tears of shame, and she'd been in this position since, fighting back her tears.

"Quite," Harry said awkwardly, filling the gap of silence that had followed Arthur's words.

"You've both become part of our family now, even though in quite an unexpected way," Arthur continued, his voice finally betraying some of the strain he must have been battling inside.

At that, Hermione flicked her eyes up briefly to see him reach beside him to grasp his ex-wife's hand, only for her to pull away. Hermione's eyes flew back down to her tea in shame. All existing marriages had been dissolved by the Ministry months earlier as they'd begun selecting the matches, but many couples - such as the one before her - has continued to live in feigned ignorance, carrying on as they had been until last night's letters had shattered their last semblance of normalcy.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione finally squeaked out, watching as her tears fell into her drink and spattered the table around it. "So, _so_ sorry," she sobbed quietly, burying her face in her hands to muffle her tears. A throat cleared beside her, and she knew it was George before she felt a hand join Harry's in rubbing her back. This time, no one mumbled apologies or condolences, instead leaving the implications of the situation to hang thickly between them, permeating every movement the room's occupants made.

When she finally looked up, she found herself looking into Ron's eyes. He wore an unreadable expression, and she swallowed before looking over at Molly. Molly stared out the window, seemingly detached from the events surrounding her. Ginny sat quietly in the far corner, offering Hermione a small, but guarded, smile when their eyes met.

"Perhaps we should, um," Hermione stood abruptly, overwhelmed. She gestured towards the living room, her eyes meeting Arthur's.

"Perhaps we should," he nodded and stood as well, only turning back to face Hermione once they were out of earshot.

"I was thinking that we should owl the...others, and meet sometime today. I spoke with Kingsley briefly last night, and he mentioned that the Minster is expected to marry quite early on in the process, of course…" he trailed off.

"Thank you, Arthur," she spoke quietly. "That would be lovely of you."

She froze as he pulled her into a hug, squeezing tightly. "This isn't your fault, don't ever forget that," he spoke into her hair. After a moment, she hugged him back before pulling away and stepping back. "I shouldn't leave Harry for too long," she looked towards the kitchen area, although she couldn't see it from where they stood.

"Alright," Arthur agreed. "But there's one last thing." When she turned to him in question, he leaned down and kissed her softly. It was relatively chaste, but made her stutter for breath all the same once he pulled away.

She was at a loss for words, and her smiled down at her in the fatherly way she had grown so accustomed to over the years, striking a sharp contrast to his actions. "To seal the betrothal," he explained.

She flushed a deep red. Did she have to with all…?

Arthur chuckled at her expression and answered her unspoken question. "Yes, it is customary. We'll be binding ourselves using some very old magic that I'm unsure we'll ever fully understand, so it's best to follow as many customs as we can in the meantime."

She nodded, then went off the find Harry. Today would be quite the day indeed.

 **X**

That afternoon, she found herself seated at the head of the table in the now-crowded kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Her fiancés sat around the table, in various levels of discomfort. Harry and Sirius were most at ease, chatting happily in the chairs nearest her. Further down the table, Neville sat quietly, giving her a small smile once she caught his eye. Arthur was seated near him, chatting casually with Kingsley, who sat across from him in his stately minister's robes, looking regal even as lines of exhaustion marred his face. The three Slytherins sat quietly at the end of the table, the Malfoys looking as poised as ever while Snape looked equally uncomfortable and annoyed.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "Shall we?" the deep baritone of his voice carried through the room, and it was soon quiet.

She waited for him to speak again before realizing with a flush that all eyes in the room were on her, waiting for her to speak. "Um," she started, flustered. "Thank you all for coming."

Her eyes darted around the room, and Kingsley must have felt her panic because he cut in. "We have quite a few main orders of business to discuss today," he said. "The wedding, living arrangements, establishing our family-" the men in the back bristled noticeably at that "-as well as a few other things. How shall we proceed?"

Hermione found her voice again. "Speaking of… family matters, I'd like to elect Arthur as our head of household as he is the oldest, should no one object." She looked around the room, expecting some disagreement. She was surprised to find none, and thus continued. "Alright, well, as that's settled, I think the next order or business should be living arrangements. Harry, Sirius, and I live here currently, and we do have the space to accomodate you all should you choose to live here. Once we start...expanding…though" -she couldn't bring herself to say _having children_ quite yet, as though it would make the situation all too real- "We might need more room."

Neville spoke first. "I would volunteer Longbottom Hall, but, my grandmother, you see…" he trailed off. Hermione winced internally at her memory of the shrill woman. No, Longbottom Hall wouldn't do.

"We could try the Burrow, but we may encounter the same… expansion issue as we would here," Arthur added.

"I couldn't ask you do to that, Arthur," Hermione said. "It should be left to Molly… or your children."

A scoff sounded from the back of the room. "And you could hardly expect a Malfoy to set foot in that hovel," the elder Malfoy spat. "We'll stay at the Manor." Arthur scowled back at him, although he did not protest.

"Thank you, Lucius," she ground out. "While we're on the topic, I would like to remind you all that we are to become a family, and our children will be raised as siblings. As such, I expect that you will all treat each other with as much respect as you can muster, regardless of your ill breeding."

Lucius shot her a deep glare at her last words, and she stared back defiantly.

"Any objections to living at Malfoy Manor?" Again, the room was silent, and she nodded briefly.

"So, about the wedding…" Harry cut in, ending her stare down with Lucius.

"I would like to hold it this weekend, if no one objects," Kingsley said. "As the Minister, there are certain expectations that I have to uphold."

Hermione swallowed at that before nodding slowly. A few days was all she had before her life would be permanently upended in the most inconvenient fashion.

"We'll need to have dress robes and the like prepared in a short time," Sirius mused.

"We'll call our tailor," Draco muttered, scowling down at the table. "And bring a menu to our kitchens. And have all your rooms prepared. We may as well have the grounds prepared for the ceremony as well," he snapped, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Draco," she smiled robotically, refusing to meet his eyes and ignoring his answering scoff.

"I'll arrange for our seamstress to measure you in the morning," Lucius drawled, and she nodded sharply.

"Who do you plan to… give you away, Hermione?" Neville asked, timidly.

Her breath caught at that, and she swallowed the pang in her heart. Her eyes strayed to Arthur, who looked back at her sadly as he silently acknowledged that he would have been the best candidate to stand in for her father.

"I can stand well enough on my own," she said dismissively, looking around in hopes that someone, _anyone_ would interrupt and end the topic. Mercifully, Arthur did.

"As the Granger Family, I expect us to vote equally on all major decisions. We may sometimes need to give Hermione's vote more weight than ours." He waited for any objections and continued when he heard none. "As for expenses and the like," Arthur continued. "How shall we divide them? And how shall we provide for Hermione?" he looked about the room.

"I have plenty of money of my own," Hermione interjected hotly as her fiancés began to discuss. Between what she'd received for her Order of Merlin and substantial bonus she'd gotten for her aid during the crisis, she wasn't in want of much.

"We could create a trust for her, and for each of our children," Kingsley mused.

"I don't need your money!" she spoke again, her protests meeting deaf ears.

"Malfoy women all always well taken care of," Lucius said simply.

"And I have plenty, more than I could spend," Harry added, smiling at her indignation.

Sirius nodded in agreement at that, pouring a generous amount of brownish liquor from a flask into his coffee before taking a swig. "What's mine is yours, love."

"Let's just move on, shall we?" Hermione said through her teeth.

"Well, erhm, I suppose we should discuss, um, arrangements," Arthur, faltered on his words, and the room lapsed into silence. "As you all know, one of us is due to...bed her… every night," he finished, flushing slightly.

Hermione flushed deeply at the change in topic, suddenly wishing they could go back to the topic they'd been discussing beforehand. She looked up briefly and met Lucius grey gaze, flushing more deeply at the slight smirk he wore that deepened as he sensed her discomfort before she could bow her head down again.

"I'd like to keep my own rooms," she said quietly into the table.

"Speak up, Ms. Granger," Snape spoke his first words of the evening. "You're not a bloody child," he snapped.

She thought it impossible to grow redder than she already was, but somehow felt herself doing so. She exhaled softly before looking up at no particular spot in the room. "I'd like to keep my own rooms," she started again, "But I don't mind, erm…"

She hoped someone would cut in and finish her sentence for her, but no one did. She felt all their eyes on her.

"I don't mind visiting… in the evenings," she sped through her last words, hoping no one would ask her to repeat them. Mercifully, no one did.

"You're not required to have...relations...while pregnant, or for up to two weeks after giving birth," Arthur reminded her.

She knew their eyes still hadn't strayed from her, and she knew they were now looking at her expectantly. Considering she would be spending the better part of their marriage pregnant, she knew that she held the upper hand in dictating their sex lives. "I won't, erm," she swallowed audibly. "I won't deny you… while I'm pregnant."

Her eyes swept around the room and landed on the Malfoys before she hastily added: "Unless you're being a complete prat." These words, thankfully, came out clearer than her previous ones.

The men nodded, still quiet, some shifting uncomfortably at the topic. She took a deep breath before opening her mouth once more.

"I, erm, I'm, I-" she stopped, hesitating. "I haven't, I mean-" she didn't have to finish her sentence before eyebrows in the room began to raise in understanding.

"You're what 'Mione?" Harry asked, at the same time that Snape exclaimed "You're a bloody _virgin_?"

She hadn't thought it was possible to flush an even deeper shade of red at this point, but she somehow suspected she had. She nodded meekly into her lap.

"You spent all that time alone with Harry and Ron and you never once…?" Arthur said, astounded.

"Really, Hermione, color me shocked," Sirius quipped.

"It wasn't exactly the most romantic of times, what with looking for Death Eaters over our shoulders and all," she snapped at him, crossing her arms indignantly.

"I mean, I'd always thought that you and Ron…" Harry trailed off.

"Well, we didn't," Hermione bristled. "Are we finished here?" she shoved her hair back, rising. "I'll be in the drawing room to… seal the betrothals and whatnot," she muttered, stomping out of the room. She set to pacing in front of the floo once she reached the drawing room, waiting anxiously for the first in line to appear.

Surprisingly, it was Snape. He waltzed up to her slowly, looking down at her beneath his nose, a familiar scathing look she had shrunk away from during all those years at Hogwarts. She did her best to stand her ground now, staring up at him in an attempt to appear as a woman, although she knew she likely still seemed a child in his eyes.

He moved closer until his intimidating figure loomed over her, before snatching her by the chin and twisting her face this way and that. Her eyes widened at his examination, and thus she barely registered the moment where he leaned down to brush his lips against hers quickly.

He had disappeared through the Floo by the time she finally blinked, and she had but a moment to gather her thoughts before Draco stormed into the room. He met her eyes briefly before kissing her just as quickly, the feather-light brush of his lips against hers barely qualifying as one.

Lucius was on his heels, and leaned down towards her once he approached. She tilted her head up and let her eyes flutter closed, refusing to meet his eyes and acknowledge the dangerous beauty that had been bestowed upon either one of the Malfoys. The long sleeved dress she wore suddenly felt too hot and too tight as he approached, her eyes sweeping over the mass of lean muscle that hinted through his robes and up to his long, silky blond hair.

Instead of kissing her, though, he shocked her by leaning down to whisper in her ear, letting his warm breath fan over her cheek as he whispered in her ear. "I'll be expecting you at the Manor tomorrow morning," he breathed before taking his leave.

And so Neville found her alone in the drawing room a short time later, still gaping after her encounters with the three Slytherins. When her eyes met his, however, her smile was genuine. "Neville," she smiled, moving over to grasp his hands tightly.

"I'm glad you're one of my…" Hermione hesitated over the word.

"...men?" Neville finished helpfully, and she laughed.

"I suppose so," she laughed. "Are you happy with this? With, erm, me?" She twisted her fingers nervously in the hem of her dress until she felt strong fingers tug at them until Neville raised them to his lips and kissed them sweetly.

"I'm thrilled," he said, blushing as he searched her eyes.

She smiled again, and reached up to meet him halfway as he leaned in for a kiss. Unlike those before him, Neville did not immediately pull away. Instead, he pulled her flush against his body, and she gasped softly into his lips as she felt the lean contours of his body against hers. His hands explored her back and she lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck. He deepened the kiss, sliding one hand around her body until he gently cupped a breast, and squeezed. She moaned at that, only for him to pull away. Her eyes fluttered open in surprise and she found him smiling down at her knowingly. He lifted a finger to trail down her cheek and across her lips. "I'll see you soon," he promised, before he disappeared through the Floo.

She sunk into an armchair, fanning herself as her cheeks flamed. Had she always been this… randy? She waited patiently for Kingsley, resolving to head for the library once he'd gone. She clearly had plenty of research to do before the weekend.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

She'd been curled up on a chair in the library for the better part of an hour, thumbing through some books she'd procured that morning from the Black family archives. The book she currently held in her hands had in-depth descriptions of ancient plural marriage bonding ceremonies, complete with details that had her blushing at the idea. One commonality between all such rituals was the fact that they were usually done in the nude, in order to foster complete harmony in the bonding. The magic involved was intense, and copulation oftentimes immediately followed the recital of the vows, yes, even when the guests were still present. As common as it had been at the time, it had become quite normal to spectate such activities.

Then she turned to the following page, and paused. The picture was a mass of writhing bodies, caught in rather obvious throes of passion. She stared at the page, transfixed by the display. She let her eyes settle on the top corner of the page, where a man dove in and out of his wife from behind, while another man plunged his leaking member into her all-too-eager mouth. Her naked breasts bounced cartoonishly as she writhed in pleasure between the men, and Hermione felt a telltale pool of wetness begin to gather between her thighs. She pressed them together in an attempt to stifle her pleasure, but this only spiked it as she flexed her thighs tighter.

A whimper escaped from her lips, and she felt a tratorious hand begin to inch down towards the hem of her dress, inching it up slowly.

"Hermione?" she jumped and snatched her hand from beneath her dress, where it had been slowly making its way toward her center. She heard the thump of the book on the ground as she peeked up over the back of the chair she was lying across to find Harry approaching her.

"I thought you'd gone to bed," she asked him warily, wondering if she looked as guilty as she felt.

"Thought I'd come find you and see how you're feeling about… well, everything," he said, sitting beside her as she moved her feet to give him room.

"I'm alright," she assured him. "A little overwhelmed, but alright."

"And so you came to do _research_ to alleviate some stress?" He arched an eyebrow at her, and she swatted his arm playfully. "Yes Harry, thank you for your observations."

He laughed softly, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence for a moment.

"Are you alright with this?" she asked him quietly. The past twenty-four hours had been so chaotic for them that they'd scarcely had a moment alone. "Sharing me with...everyone?"

He laughed at her pained expression. "I can't say I'm happy about the sharing part," he said. "But...I am happy that it's you." He met her eyes meaningfully.

They were finally talking about the _something_ that had begun to spark between them in the past few months, an unidentifiable spark that had continued to ignite into a flame of tension with every shared touch and private moment. He slid his hand over to intertwine his fingers with hers, and she squeezed his hand back. "Do you think it's possible to fall in love this quickly? Because I do. Love you, I mean. I always have, but it's...different, now," his words were awkward and rushed, but dripping with sincerity.

"I think I love you too," she choked out, unbidden tears shining in her eyes. She'd fallen for him sometime during the time they'd spent living together during the past year, and she admitted to herself that it had started slowly before she had suddenly fallen deeply for him, so quickly that she couldn't pinpoint the moment.

He beamed at her before leaning forward and kissing her. The kiss started slowly, tentatively, opening an unexplored area of their relationship with trepidation. They both soon melted into the kiss, however, as naturally as if they had always meant to be here, intertwined like this. Cautiously, Harry began letting his hands roam her body, sliding around her back and abdomen, before running up and down her sides. Her body ignited under his touch, and she arched into him, attempting to pull him as close to her as she could. She spread her legs around him to accommodate him, and they snogged languidly for a long while. Eventually, he pulled back, leaving her yearning for more. He continued to hold her hand, stroking a thumb absently over her skin as he smiled to himself.

"Anything I can help with?" he asked after they'd sat in a comfortable silence for some time, looking at the pile of books on the table in front of them.

Panic coursed through her as she recalled exactly what she'd been about to do before Harry had interrupted her.

"No, it's fine really-" she reached out to stop him from plucking a book from the pile knowing exactly what could be hidden in those pages, all the while forgetting about the book that had fallen on the floor. Coincidentally right where Harry had leaned forward to reach for the pile, his foot nudging the tome slightly. She watched the events happen in slow motion as Harry reached down to pluck it up, where it had landed face down.

"Wait-!" It was too late. Harry turned the book over, his eyes widening at the images on the page.

It was dead silent for a moment, and she took the time to bury her flushed face in her hands.

""Mione," Harry called after a moment. She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Can we just pretend that this never happened?" she mumbled into her hands. He somehow heard her, and she felt his body shake with laughter.

"I think not," he said, sobering. "I'd rather address this, right here, right now," his voice dropped an octave, and she felt his hand tugging at one of her hands, trying to uncover her face.

"Alright then," he said, too calmly for her liking. "Shall we address _this_ instead?" he whispered, and she parted her fingers and peeked out in time to see one of his hands slide up to cup her intimately, fingers disappearing under the last bit of her dress that hadn't ridden up during their snog session.

Her hands flew from her face down to clutch his hand as he grinned at her wickedly, taking in her shocked expression. She choked out a moan, unable to form words as she felt liquid heat rush to her loins where he cupped her.

"What was that?" he asked innocently, slowly drawing a finger along her wet folds through her knickers.

She only softly moaned again in response, her hands clenching his arm tighter as she quivered under his touch.

Before she could pull him closer, he pulled away himself, raising the finger he'd just rubbed her with to suck the light sheen of her juices off of his fingertip. He held eye contact with her the entire time, smirking wider as her lips parted in a small "o" at his actions.

"Well, if that's all then," he stood up and excused himself before she could form a protest.

Oh, _gods_.

 **X**

She stepped through the Malfoys' fireplace at precisely ten o'clock the next morning, dusting soot off of her robes. She looked up to find Lucius waiting for her quietly in a chaise from across the room, his grey eyes sweeping across her form. She blushed as he took in her light muggle summer dress that peeked through her open robes with a raised eyebrow, before she hastily pulled them closed, blushing.

"Good morning, Lucius," she said formally, shifting awkwardly where she stood. Draco was nowhere in sight.

"Welcome, Miss Granger," he drawled after a pregnant pause. He stepped over to her, lifting her hand with the hand that that was unoccupied by his elegant walking stick. He kissed it softly before tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and drawing her out of the room.

"I understand that you may have some qualms about living here," he said, walking her through the great hall of the Manor. Indeed, she recalled the cruel splendor of his home all too well, and too in a steady breath to calm her hammering heart as the pain memories rose within her. Her eyes swept over the large, elegant staircase in the hall, marveling at how Lucius' voice travelled through the cavernous room. She noted the absence of any house elves milling about, and wondered if that had been for her benefit.

"Before we begin, I'd like to show you something." He stopped at a pair of ornate double doors that stretched high above them, at least two dozen feet tall. The doors opened slowly in front of them, revealing a large, sweeping ballroom, glittering with beauty in the golden light that filtered through the tall windows that surrounded the room.

"The drawing room," he spoke again, and her breath caught at the mention of the word. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. "The drawing room has been removed, and repurposed," he said, his eyes trained on the room once again. "All that remains is the small part of it we used to expand the ballroom."

"Thank you," she whispered after a long silence, her eyes exploring each crevice of the room, looking for tell tale signs that it had existed once, despite the evidence that was permanently etched into her arm, faded almost completely after countless rounds of treatments. She found none. "Thank you, Lucius."

He nodded briefly and stepped back out of the room, gesturing for her to follow him. They ascended the sweeping staircase to the second floor, where he lead her down the hall until they reached another tall, ornate set of doors. "These rooms are where the Master and Mistress of the house reside," he said, pulling them open to reveal a large sitting room. They crossed the room and stopped to pulled open a set of doors, to which she noticed a matching set lay across the room.

"These are my rooms," he clipped as she looked in to see another sitting room, and a set of doors beyond that opened into a large room. "Yours are across the hall," he added, crossing the main sitting room to pull open said doors.

She gasped at what lay within. What had once likely been a grand set of rooms had been torn apart. Broken pieces of furniture littered the room sitting room, and the doors to the bedroom beyond had been blasted to pieces. A large chandelier was shattered on the ground of the bedroom, its shattered pieces leaving a blanket of glittering pieces over the wreckage in the room. The wall farthest from her had a set of words emblazoned across it, unmistakable even from the distance they stood: _**Whore**_.

She gaped, at a loss for words, and felt Lucius clap a large hand over her shoulder, steering her out of the room. "I apologize for the _courtesies_ my ex-wife has left you," he said evenly. She looked up to find a twitch in his lip as the only indication of his annoyance under his normally cool facade. "I'll have this cleaned, and you can have it re-designed as you see fit."

She nodded mutely, shifting awkwardly in the silence following his words. "Where...is she now?" she asked.

"Exiled to one of the guest rooms until the curse breakers are done examining our other homes," he replied simply.

She opened her mouth to ask another question, and he answered before she could ask her question. "She is infertile, so she will not be bound."

"Oh," Hermione answered lamely.

"The seamstress shall be here shortly. I'll have her meet you here." He turned and disappeared into his rooms, leaving her alone in the elegant sitting room. She had just perched herself upon one of the less intimidating looking chairs when a house elf popped in with a small woman in tow. She had a sharp, short hair cut, and large dark spectacles that the peered over at Hermione with beady eyes.

"I am Ismerlda," she said simply in accented english, before she reached over and dragged Hermione up, surprisingly strong for her size.

"Excuse me-!" Hermione yelped as the woman unceremoniously tugged off her robes, leaving her in her dress that felt entirely too flimsy in the now frigid room.

The woman tsked in response, before vanishing the dress altogether. Hermione gasped and reached out automatically to splay her hands over her most intimate parts, now covered only by her undergarments.

Ismerlda yanked her hands to the side as she circled her body, examining it intimately and occasionally poking at her with her wand.

"This is entirely-" she stopped short as the woman stepped back and crossed her arms.

"You shall have the dress on the morrow," she clipped, before turning on her heel and exiting the room, leaving Hermione standing there, half naked and flushed.

A soft creak from behind her made her whip her head around to see Lucius, standing as poised as ever in the doorway to his rooms.

"How-how long have you been there?" she sputtered indignantly, covering herself as she looked around for her robes, which had somehow disappeared from where they had been pooled on the floor a short while ago.

He smirked knowingly before crossing over to her, his grey eyes sweeping over her form appreciatively. One hand covered her breast vainly while the other shielded her nether parts, and she cursed herself for wearing the matching black lacy set she'd bought on a whim many months ago. She'd worn the set in hopes that she wouldn't embarrass herself in her usual simple cotton undergarments in front of the seamstress, and now regretted that decision immensely.

Lucius reached out and plucked the hand that covered her chest away effortlessly, unceremoniously palming one of her lace-clad breasts, his thumb sweeping gently over her nipple. It was already puckered from the chill in the room, and she flushed as it hardened under his touch. "You'll do," he said, his voice pitched dangerously low.

The touch had lasted but a moment before she pulled back, widening the gap between them. "Robes, _now,_ " she ground out, crossing her arms.

Lucius smirked at her indignation and summoned them wordlessly, where they flew to his waiting hands from somewhere in his rooms. She reached over to snatch them from him, before spelling them closed as best she could. Moved to step around him before he tugged her back towards him, leaning down to whisper seductively into her ear. "Forgetting something, aren't we?"

She met his eyes, ready to let out a litany of curses, before she recalled what he spoke of. She glared at him for a moment before threading her fingers through his hair and yanking his head down, brushing a chaste kiss across his lips. She pushed away and stormed out of the room before he could drag her back yet again, stumbling through the maze of hallways in the Manor before finally finding an open floo, shouting "Twelve Grimmauld Place!" slightly louder than was strictly necessary.

X

Later that evening, she found herself pacing quietly outside of Harry's room, strengthening her resolve. Work in the Auror department had been slow since their population had begun to dwindle, but she knew that the spare time Harry spent after his short work days with his godson left him as exhausted as if he'd had a full workload. It was entirely possible that she would open the door and find him passed out on his bed, snoring softly.

She took a deep breath and knocked, heart skipping a beat as she heard him call out to her to enter almost immediately.

"Harry?" she said softly as she peeked in to find him perched at his desk, reading through a mound of paperwork.

He smiled up at her and crossed the room to gather her into a tight hug. "How are you feeling?"

"As well as can be expected," she replied nervously, before pushing the door closed behind her and crossing over to sit on his bed, twisting her hands in the hem of her nightgown.

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked, settling down beside her. She could feel the concern radiating off of him in waves, and felt thankful that her best friend hadn't disappeared even as their relationship became more complicated.

She flushed, training her eyes onto her lap. "That's not why I'm here, actually," she started nervously.

He waited patiently, and she felt his curious gaze on her.

She cleared her throat before continuing. "We'll, um...we'll be married the day after next, Harry."

"I know," he said, tugging at her chin until she turned to him so that he could give her a sweet kiss.

She pulled back and looked into his familiar green eyes. "We'll be married soon, and I haven't, erm, and I wanted to-" she paused to take a breath. "Will you be my first, Harry?On-on our wedding night, I mean- if you don't mind waiting, because, well, I've waited this long already, and..."

He blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling widely, leaning down to kiss her again. "I would be honored," he whispered against her lips.

She pulled him into another kiss, deepening it until he took the hint. "Touch me, Harry," she whispered as she moved her lips to place lingering kisses on his neck. "I don't want it to be our first…everything...on my wedding day…" she breathed through kisses.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes, nodding softly. "Of course not," he whispered, kissing her again. They'd kissed again that morning, pulling away as Sirius had walked in for his coffee, the older man smirking at their antics. The incident had inspired her to initiate this moment, and she felt all the more grateful for her decision as she arched into Harry's touch.

His hands explored her gently, roaming over her sides and back as they had the night before. She stopped and pulled away for a moment to loosen the tie on the robe she wore, revealing more of the satin nightgown she wore underneath. It was a slightly sheer cream color, with thin straps that ended in a trim of lace at her mid thigh. She knew he could see the outline of her bare chest beneath the thin material in the soft firelight that illuminated his room, and she felt her nipples hardening as his eyes darkened at the sight.

She reached down and guided his hand over her breast, squeezing softly. " _Touch_ me, Harry," she encouraged, frustrated at the lack of the forwardness he'd displayed to her last night.

At that he grinned wickedly, and she realized with a start that he'd been teasing. Consequently, when he suddenly tipped her until she was laying back on the bed and snaked a hand under her nightgown, he found her already wet from his teasing.

"Jesus, 'Mione," he moaned as his fingers slid along her slit through the thin satin knickers she wore underneath. He dipped down to kiss her again, all the while using the hand that had dipped under her nightgown to slowly inch down her knickers. He slid them off without breaking their kiss, then brought his hand up again this time raising her dress until it was hiked around her hips. He pulled back, looking down at her exposed pussy in awe. He ran a finger through her wiry bush, marvelling at the moisture that had gathered there.

"You're gorgeous," he whispered, moving down her body until his face was at eye level with her cunt. She flushed as she watched him take his fingers to gently tug her outer lips apart, then moaned as his finger slid across her clit.

"Fuck, 'Mione" he moaned, and she peered down at him through her lashes to find him pulling off his shirt, the tugging at the drawstring of his pajama bottoms. She could see the outline of his hardening cock straining at the material, and yearned to reach out and touch it.

"Show me," she said as he finally untangled the drawstring. "I want to see you," she breathed.

He held her eye contact as tugged the trousers down, exposing his hard cock, surrounded by a thatch of thick, dark hair. It was flushed red and leaked a clear fluid from the tip of its purpling head. Her entire body flushed with desire as she watched him fist his cock, mesmerized as she watched the head disappear and reappear in his tight fist.

"Touch yourself for me," he whispered, and she obeyed automatically, snaking a hand down to slide it through her moist lips, that seemed to almost drip with anticipation.

She took two fingers and circled her clit slowly, watching with hooded eyes as Harry continued to stroke his cock, his own eyes transfixed by her pussy. She would have felt embarrassed were it not for the unadulterated lust that permeated the room. She reached her other hand down and dipped a finger into her opening, letting her eyes flutter shut with a moan as she drove it deep before adding another.

"Harry…" she whispered, jerking her eyes open as she found him kneeling before her, his hand having reached out to touch her clit. She pulled her slick hands back and watched as her swirled his fingers in her juices, before his tongue darted out to lick her clit.

She was suddenly too hot, and it was all too much, and she found herself coming with a strangled cry. Harry licked her harder through her orgasm, lapping up her juices as they dripped out of her pussy. The lewd sounds they made echoed throughout the room, but she couldn't bring herself to care as she rode out her orgasm. She was still trembling on the bed as he pulled back, and when she felt a splash of stickiness on her abdomen, she opened her eyes to the delicious sight of Harry coming in long spurts that spattered the bed and her skin alike.

When he was finished, he leaned forward on the bed, panting hard before looking up at her. She grinned at him, eyes flicking down to his softening cock that still hung lewdly from the trousers that were currently bunched around his thighs. He flushed and pulled them up, before joining her on the bed.

"I love you so much," he laughed, and she found herself joining him, until they had dissolved into the easy laughter they had known for so many years of their friendship.

And that was how Sirius burst in to find them a few minutes later, the question he had started to ask Harry dying on his lips as he took in the sight before him. It would not have appeared out of the ordinary in the least to see them lying side by side on the bed laughing heartily, except for the fact that during their fit of laughter, Hermione had forgotten about the wanton display she currently made. Her nightgown was bunched above her navel, leaving her pussy exposed to the drafty room. Splotches of cum had dried on her stomach, and her slit still glistened softly in the waning candlelight with the evidence of her orgasm.

Her eyes flew down to were Sirius' has landed, and she gasped before shoving her dress down.

"Sirius!" Harry chastised, pulling her into him as he attempted to shield her.

Although her face was firmly buried in Harry's shirt, she could feel Sirius' smirk burning into her back. "You'll make quite the wife," he said simply, before closing the door firmly behind him.

She felt Harry's body begin to shake with laughter at his godfather's words, and she smacked his chest as she wallowed in embarrassment.

 **X**

The next morning, she tiptoed into the kitchen, having already peered around every corner as she made her way down from Harry's room. Deeming the coast clear, she rapidly grabbed a plate of eggs and toast that Kreacher had set out. She had turned to exit the room when she dropped her plate with a yelp at the sight of a nonchalant Sirius sitting at the table, chewing at a slice of bacon.

"Morning," he smirked after flicking his wand to stop her breakfast from hitting the floor.

She flushed at his expression. "Morning," she mumbled, reaching for the plate he'd left hovering in front of her.

"Not quite yet," he grinned, standing up and moving towards her. She stepped back until she felt the small of her back smack against the nearest countertop, cursing inwardly the trap she had inadvertently set for herself.

She forced her eyes to meet his, flushing at his proximity. He settled his arms on the counter on either side of her, effectively trapping her.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" the handsome man breathed, meeting her dark eyes with his own.

"I-...I don't-" he swallowed her words with a deep kiss, stepping forward until their bodies were flush against one another, sealing her final betrothal.

He pulled back, leaving her disoriented, much in the same fashion as her other fiancés had. He surprised her, however, when he hoisted her up onto the countertop and snaked a hand under her nightgown, slipping off the knickers she had pulled back on before coming downstairs. He tucked them into his pocket, and captured her lips in another kiss.

"I doubt you'll be needing these today," he smirked before sauntering out of the room.

 **X**

That afternoon, she walked into a grand dining room at Malfoy Manor to find all of her future husbands - save for Harry and Sirius, who trailed behind her - waiting on her quietly.

"Afternoon," she said quietly, slipping into the seat at the head of the table next to the Malfoys.

Draco began without hesitation. "Now that we've all arrived," he drawled as she flushed, "almost all of our guests have confirmed their attendance, and the dress robes have arrived." He waved his wand over the table, and sheets of parchment appeared before them all. "Here is the list of guests, along with a list of tomorrow's events and the menu we have prepared. Any questions?"

She sat quietly as some of the men murmured changes, and Draco coordinated them flawlessly. Her eyes roved over the guest list, and she was dismayed to find that, of all the Weasleys, only Fred, George, Percy, and Charlie had confirmed their attendance. She looked over at Arthur, but his face was ever the mask of cheerfulness, as it always had been, even after Bill's passing.

"I'd like to say something," she spoke softly, yet the room quieted and they all waited for her to speak. She looked around the room, meeting each man's eyes as she spoke. "Although this union is...unconventional, I'd like to make the most of it as we can. Harry-" she met his eyes and gave him a lingering smile, "-is the only man I expect to act as my husband in every capacity," some nodded, while others remained stoic.

"But that does not mean that I will not try my best to make room in my heart for all of you, as your wife, in whatever capacity you need." She smiled as genuinely as she could, despite her hyper awareness of the daunting task that laid before her.

"You've all had families and women you loved before me, and I'm sorry that I'm forced to be your last," she continued. "But I promise that I will try, and all I ask is that you try to make our future as harmonious as possible in return."

The silence after her speech stretched out until Draco spoke up again.

"I suppose that's the lot of it. Pinky!" he snapped, and a house elf dressed in a pink pillowcase popped in beside him. "Show them to their rooms," he ordered simply before breezing out of the room. Snape followed with a flourish, disappearing down a hall in the opposite direction of where Pinky was herding the other men.

"Up, up, up, we go," she said in her high voice, leading them through the entrance hall and up to the second floor. Hermione followed beside Harry, having already coordinated the redecoration of her room with Lucius via owl.

He reached out to twine his fingers with hers, eyes shifting around the sprawling elegance of the Manor with disdain. "Are you alright with this?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand.

"I have to be," he shrugged after a moment of hesitation. "I want to be where my wife is. Where my children are." Her heart fluttered at the word, and she smiled up at him beatifically, imagining what their children would look like.

"I'm sad to be mostly giving up my career," she said, "Sad to become a broodmare, of sorts. But happy to be with you," she smiled at him, peeking to make sure others weren't watching before sneaking a peck.

"Mr. Potter," Pinky's tiny voice interrupted their moment. "Your rooms," she gestured to the door to their right, and she saw the other men disappearing into similar rooms lined along the hall, which appeared to be on the opposite side of the floor from her and Lucius' rooms.

She stepped in after Harry, pleased to see that his rooms were only slightly less opulent than her own. She'd half expected Lucius to assign him a broom closet and blame the mistake on an oversight. As Pinky pulled the doors shut behind them, Harry turned to waggle his eyebrows at her naughtily. "Shall we…?" he waggled his eyebrows, eliciting a giggle from her.

"We shall," she agreed, letting out an excited yelp before he scooped her up and carried her to the end.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Hermione sat in front of a large mirror, transfixed by the figure that looked back at her. She barely recognized her. Her hair had been pulled straight, the rearranged in large, cascading curls that had then been interwoven with flowers and charmed crystals that glittered beautifully in the light. Her long wedding robes swept low, exposing her shoulders and collarbone as well as a subtle swell of cleavage. The white robes seemed to glow from within, bathing her in an ethereal swath of delicately draping material with every excited twirl she had done in the mirror when she'd first tried it on. Invasive and uncouth as Ismerlda was, Hermione had to admit that the woman was a genius.

"Hermione," a voice sounded from behind her, and the women that Lucius had hired to fuss over her hair melted away, leaving her alone with the newcomer.

"Molly," she whispered, meeting the woman's eyes in the mirror. "Molly, I-"

"Shh, dear, I know," the woman said with a small smile that didn't meet her eye. She sank into one of the many ornate loveseats that were littered around her sitting room, shifting her eyes around at the opulence before settling back on Hermione. "It's just been so hard, dear," she spoke again. "After everything that's happened, he was my constant, and now he's gone, and I'm just lost, so lost…"

Hermione sprang up and ran over to the woman, gathering her in her arms. She'd never seen the Weasley matriarch show her even a hint of weakness, and this display was at once both foreign and heartbreaking. She held the older woman for a long while, whispering soothing words into her hair. She watched as their tears both fell, spelled away from her face and dress instantly by the multitude of charms she'd been layered in that morning.

Eventually, Molly pulled away, wiping at her face. "He always maintains this strong, cheerful exterior, but he needs loving attention and comfort just as much as any of us. And treacle tarts," she added. "In the bedroom, he likes it when you…" she made a gesture with her hands that caused Hermione to flush a deep red, and Molly threw her head back and laughed genuinely at Hermione's reaction.

"You'll be good for him," she said softly. "I can't… stay, but in time, I'll try…" the woman trailed off, and Hermione nodded quickly.

"Of course," she reassured her. "Take all the time you need. Please."

They embraced once more, and Molly stood to take her leave. "You look radiant, my dear," she smiled in the motherly way Hermione had grown to love over the years.

As the door closed behind Molly, she burst into tears, thinking of her own mother and wishing desperately that she could hold her now. Her attendants found her like that, and wordlessly banished her tears as they flowed until they deemed it safe to usher her down to the doors that lead to the gardens, where her men awaited her. She steeled herself, then nodded the elves stationed by the doors to pull them open.

She stepped out into the sunlight, blinded for a moment before her mouth dropped open at the beauty of the display before her. She walked down an aisle that was spread with a blanket of white flower petals, while more had been charmed to rain down softly from above, shining similarly to the way her dress glowed in the beaming sunshine. She recognized only a few of the guests as she breezed by, making her way down the long aisle until she could clearly see the throng of eight men standing in a semi-circle on a raised dais before her. They were suspended over a glimmering body of water, and she wondered briefly if it was a glamour before she nearly tripped as she reached the steps leading up to where the men awaited her.

Her eyes swept over her husbands, and she admitted to herself that she had been quite lucky with her matches. They all ranged from reasonably to devastatingly handsome, and when she met their eyes, her smiles were genuine. The Malfoys and Snape simply stared back at her, but the others smiled back at her. Harry's smile was the widest of all, and she beamed back at him.

"We have gathered on this afternoon to celebrate the union of the Granger family," the Ministry-appointed officiant started. "Let us begin."

The ceremony went by quickly, with a series of complicated incantations that bound her to each man in mind, body, and spirit. By the time they reached the final step in the ceremony, she felt the buzz of magic within her, drawing her to each man in turn as she sipped from a chalice and repeated the same phrase to each man. Neville was the final man, and she raised the chalice to her lips for the eighth time, repeating, "I bind myself to you," as she looked up at him, wondering when he had grown so much that he now towered over her, broad-shouldered and golden-skinned.

"And I to you," he said back sincerely, smiling as he raised the chalice to his lips.

And then she felt it, at first as subtle as the final click of a lock before a door opened wide. Only behind the door was a torrent of feeling, so overwhelming that she gasped under the pressure of the magic swirling within her. It swirled and coalesced into an inferno that gathered at one point, and she lifted her hand to see a swirl of color enveloping her ring finger as a large, glittering diamond appeared. It was hauntingly beautiful, throwing the light of a multitude of colors with each angle she turned it. Then she felt the wave rise and burst within her, settling throughout her body in a deep hum. It beckoned her like a whisper, urging her to draw nearer to the men surrounding her, and let them touch her...

She licked her lips, wondering if any of her husbands felt the unavoidable pull, too. Harry stepped forward to take her hand lightly, and she gasped at his touch as it felt like fire on her skin. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, wondering if he felt the pull as well. She watched him swallow his obvious discomfort, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as it moved up and down. She longed to latch on to him, and suck him, just _there_ …

There was a nudge at her back, and Snape spoke urgently into her ear, " _Move_ , Mrs. Snape," he said evenly, and she wondered if she was imagining the strain she heard in his voice. " _Now._ "

He had succeeded in redirecting her attention from Harry for a moment, but it only redirected so far as for her to lean back into the hand that was splayed across the small of her back, hoping he would snake it around to her front and lower, just a little _lower_ …

She barely registered the well wishers that congratulated them as they made their way down the aisle, able only to focus on where Harry and Snape's hands were guiding her forward. She vaguely registered that she had begun breathing heavily, and wondered if she looked as lust-starved on the outside as she felt.

Soon, they stumbled through the threshold of the Manor, and the men whisked her down a series of hallways until they entered a private sitting room. One of her husbands shut the door behind them and they were alone. Harry let go of her hand to push back her hair and begin suckling on her neck. She rolled her head back in ecstasy, directly into Snape's chest.

She used one of her hands to tug his from her back and around her body, frowning when she met resistance as she tried to lower his hands to her intended destination. "Touch me, dammit," she growled, opening her eyes to snap at him.

She was momentarily shocked to see to hungry eyes of the rest of her husbands on her. She felt the throb of lust within her, reaching out to each one of them and begging them to touch her anywhere, everywhere, _please_.

Snape was saying something, but she couldn't focus on the words so much as on the rumble of his voice through his chest that she felt travel straight to her nether regions. She moaned, and he stopped abruptly, before pushing Harry's hands off of her and spinning her to face him.

"Dammit, woman, listen to me!" he snapped, and she forced herself to focus on his words and not the heat of his hands where he gripped her shoulders. "You need to consummate this now, with whomever you've chosen - Potter I presume?" his voice was stiff, and she trained her eyes down his dress robes, wondering if she would find a telltale hardness there. She highly suspected that she would.

"Arthur, pass the vials on the table - we all need to drink them, now, if we're to get through this…" His voice faded into the background again as felt a new set of hands on her, kneading her breasts softly. _Yes_ …

She dimly registered as a third hand appeared, tugging at the front of her dress until her bare breasts spilled out and a hot mouth closed over one of her stiff nipples. "Oh!" she cried out. Nothing, she knew, _nothing_ anyone had ever experienced in their lives could ever compare to the pleasure she felt in that moment. She opened her eyes to find the other men frozen in hungry trances, watching as Harry and Neville laved at her naked breasts. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to rid herself of the infernal dress she wore and have them ravish her at once on the table, right then and there.

"Arthur!" Snape snapped from behind her, and the man stumbled forward with a tray full of vials of a deep purple liquid. "Take one, now, all of you!"

All expect the three who touched her struggled, but managed to comply. In the meantime, she moaned for more, curling her hands in the folds of her dress as she attempted to pull it off. She has succeeded in gathering its folds around her waist and was tugging Neville's hand toward her satin-covered mound when Snape's hand clamped down on hers, tugging the dress back into place.

"Potter! Take her - _now_." She felt the familiar pull of apparition, and she and Harry reappeared in his rooms, standing near the large, canopied bed.

"Harry," she moaned loudly, attempting to shimmy out of her dress. He pulled it off surprisingly easily, leaving her in a small pair of satin knickers, which he glared at before vanishing them altogether.

He kneeled before her and buried his face in her pubic hair before swiping his tongue over her clit a few times in quick succession, moaning into her skin when he found that she was already dripping wet.

"I want to go slow, I have to go slow," he repeated, seemingly more to himself than to her, all the while kissing her skin up her abdomen to her throat as he spoke, pulling back as he reached her face. "I'll be gentle, I promise," he reassured her, even as she noted his pupils that were blown with lust.

"It won't hurt," she breathed before kissing him slowly. "I rode horses plenty during the summers," she added. His brow furrowed in confusion before comprehension dawned on him and he tore at his clothes until he was clad in nothing but his pants.

Instead of spelling his underwear off, she gave him a wicked smile before she sank to her knees before him, pulling his pants down and watching his cock bob free, rock hard and surrounded by a thatch of dark pubic hair. He moaned in anticipation, and it turned into a loud keen as she unceremoniously took his penis into her mouth, bobbing her head along his length.

"Oh…" Harry sighed from above her, and she moaned around his length just as she had early that morning before they'd said their final good-byes before becoming husband and wife. It elicited the same reaction as before - a loud and long moan, followed by a hand tangling in her hair as she swallowed loudly, taking as much of his cock in her mouth as she could. She felt her eyes water as she gagged, forcing the reflex down. She was thankful for the impenetrable charms holding her makeup in place, for she surely would have looked frightful without them. She doubted Harry would have minded either way.

She pulled off to lick along his length, and fondled his bollocks with her other hand. He tugged her off suddenly and looked down at her sheepishly. "I'm going to come," he explained, and she giggled saucily as he pulled her up and laid her on the soft sheets, settling himself over her.

She looked up at him, hoping she was projecting all the love and adoration she felt for him. "I love you, Harry Potter," she whispered, watching as his eyes shone with emotion.

"And I love you, Hermione Potter," he whispered back, leaning down to kiss her. His hand snaked down between them to grasp his length, and he slid it along her wet folds for a moment before entering her slowly.

She gasped at the intimate intrusion, clutching him closer to her body. She moaned as she felt the softness of his bollocks touch her skin briefly before he pulled back and dove in once more. Her lips parted, and she panted heavily with each thrust of his cock into her.

It was good. So, _so_ good. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she bathed herself in the sensation of their bodies, feeling so connected to her husband that she no longer knew where she ended and he began. It was heaven, nirvana, perfection…

Her orgasm swelled and crashed over her softly, dragged out sweetly by the feeling of his body covering hers, causing sweet, _sweet_ friction against her clit with his every movement. He cried out softly into her ear, spilling deeply inside of her.

"Don't move yet," she whispered into his hair as he laid himself down on her tiredly. His cock was softening slowly inside her, but she relished in the feel of their intimate connection, of their sweaty bodies clutching one another, of the kisses he peppered along every inch of her skin that he could reach from his position.

They laid together for a long while afterward, gently exploring each others bodies after they made love for a second time. "We should go back downstairs soon," Harry sighed after casting a tempus charm.

"How long have we been gone?" she whispered, combing her fingers suggestively through his pubic hair.

He reached out a clearly reluctant hand to stop her hand from straying to his cock, which had finally gone soft again. "Almost an hour," he answered, pulling away from her gently and reaching over to pluck to vials of potion off of his night table. "You are the bride, so…"

She sighed, sitting up to take the vial he held out to her. "If we must," she said, examining the vial.

"A concentrated calming draught," Harry explained. "The binding magic is...intense. It'll help with the, uh, others," he trailed off awkwardly. She smiled at him and kissed him reassuringly, knowing the flare of jealousy she would feel at the thought of sharing him with another witch.

"I love you most," she reminded him before padding over to pull on her dress.

"I know," he teased, smirking as he saw her step into her dress knicker-free. "Missing something?" She responded by tossing a shoe at him, to his amusement.

 **X**

They made their way to the ballroom, entering to find it filled with guests milling about. She hoped to blend into the crowd, but all eyes were on them from the moment they stepped in. Her dress was a beacon of light, and it drew their gazes to her like magnets. She flushed, hoping they had placed a glamour to conceal that as well, as she was certain they could sense exactly what she had been doing with Harry during her mysterious disappearance.

The first of her other husbands that she spotted was Kingsley, who was chatting animatedly with a few regal-looking people. "Hullo," she said as she approached the group, dismayed to find that Harry had disappeared into another direction.

"Welcome, Hermione," Kingsley smiled down at her before kissing her cheek softly. She still felt a fire dancing in her chest at his touch, but she was thankfully able to shove it down until she could focus on the conversation at hand.

"...successful so far, bravo," a tall, thin woman with short, curling grey hair was saying.

Kingsley hummed in agreement. "My wife here was instrumental in the development of the law, so I daresay she deserves quite a bit of praise herself," he said, sliding an arm around her waist.

The woman slid her eyes over Hermione before giving a small nod of approval. "It does appear that many congratulations are in order this evening."

And so for the next hour of dinner, and into the dancing portion of the evening, she mingled with various Ministry officials and acquaintances of import of Kingsley's, among other guests. "You're a natural, Mrs. Shacklebolt," Kingsley whispered into her ear before she took her leave to find a loo. She leaned up to kiss him softly before leaving, this time on the lips. It helped sate the lick of fire that had begun curling up her chest over the past two hours, but only for a moment, and she felt it return in full force once she departed the ballroom. She wandered the halls, passing the loos closest to the ballroom that she was certain were filled with partygoers that she had no desire to chat idly with at the moment.

She wandered until the noise from the party faded to a din, and the only noise around her was the click of her heels on the floor. She moved faster as she felt the tug of the flames of desire rising in her chest, and wondered if her own hand could aid in temporarily relieving any of the pressure. She was so absorbed by her thoughts and her desire that she did not hear the footsteps nearby until she rounded a corner and found herself colliding with the chest of none other than Severus Snape.

When she felt her body connect with his, she immediately knew that she was in danger. The flames blazed an inferno as strong as it had when they'd completed the ceremony, and she looked up at him with a look she knew constituted unbridled lust.

"I need more calming draught," she panted pulling back only slightly enough to run her hands firmly over his chest, sighing as she felt hints of his lightly muscled torso underneath his layers of dark clothing. "But first, I need you," she bit her lip, almost ashamed at the desperation she could hear her in voice. " _Please_ ," she begged, her voice a desperate whisper.

He stared down at her and she up at him, admiring the sharp, angled sweep of his features even as he glared at her. It was silent for several heartbeats, and she waited for his rejection, knowing that his self-control was twice that of her own.

So it came as a shock to her when his hand clamped down on her arm, only twist to it behind her and shove her forward until she slammed into the wall. He rucked her dress up around her hips before kicking her legs apart. She felt the cool air of the hall on her bared cunt, and, for a brief moment of lucidity, whipped her head around to confirm that _yes, he was doing this, right here, right_ now. She heard the jingle of his belt buckle and moaned in anticipation. His fingers were suddenly between her legs, pushing into her center, and she could swear that the wet sound of his fingers spearing in her pussy echoed in the empty hall. She hadn't a moment to catch her breath before he shoved his cock into her, pressing her harder against the wall. "Severus-!" she moaned his name, coming violently as she felt his thick length filling her, so large that her eyes rolled back into her head as she was overwhelmed with pleasure.

Somehow, she remembered to clap a hand over her mouth to suppress her loud moans before he continued fucking her hard and fast, his cock sliding through her juices obscenely. She barely registered the pain in her cheek as her face chafed against something rigid on the wall, until Snape dragged her head back until her head lolled against his shoulder. She blinked her eyes open, and, even in her haze of lust, recognized the object she'd been rubbing against the edge of a large portrait of an elderly blond man, that appeared to be at an abject loss for words as he took in what was occurring in front of him with a scandalized expression.

Snape emptied himself into her at the exact moment that the portrait finally found its voice and bellowed: "FILTHY MUDBLOOD _WHORE_! DISGRACE! SHAME ON THE MALFOY NAME!"

They both stood in shocked silence for a long beat before Snape adjusted his trousers and pulled her dress down, dragging her away from the outraged painting. Its bellows echoed down the halls behind them, and she panicked, wondering if any of their guests would be able to hear the commotion. Luckily it faded away as, they soon approached the party and he shoved a vial into her hands, which she immediately downed gratefully. He said nothing to her all the while, and soon disappeared into the crowd of wedding guests.

She sighed contentedly once she felt the full effect of the potion. With the calm it brought, she became acutely aware of her embarrassment. She filthy indeed. Had she really just cornered her ex-Professor in a dark hallway and asked him to ravish her? And a smaller voice added: had _he_ really done it? Their couplation had been over nearly as quickly as it had begun, but she could not deny that there hadn't yet been a moment where her new wifely duties and the implications of the law had felt more startlingly real. She also couldn't deny the very real evidence of their copulation, which had been steadily sliding down her thighs as she moved.

"Evening, stepmother," Fred said lightly as he walked up to her, planting a quick kiss on her forehead.

"How do you do?" George said from her other side, smiling wider as the scowled at Fred's use of the word stepmother.

" _Never_ call me that again," she groaned.

"Step _mummy_ , then?" Fred corrected, rolling the word off his tongue. "Or perhaps just mother?"

She groaned again. "Here's to hoping your newest sibling doesn't turn out to be as much of a prat as you two,"

"Oh, we'll be sure to correct that," George grinned wickedly.

She spied Fred slip something into Parvati Patil's drink as they moved past her, and before she could warn the girl, the two men pulled her away quickly, ushering her off in the opposite direction. She cocked a suspicious eyebrow as the craned her neck to look back at Parvati. "Just _what_ have you two been up to this evening?"

"Nothing at all, Mrs. Weasley," George smirked.

"Already worried about us? How sweet," Fred added. There was a yelp behind them, and she turned again to see Parvati's hair cycling through a rainbow of colors.

" _Really_?" she chided them, smacking them each in the arm.

"Sorry, _mother_ ," they answered in unison, then departed, laughing loudly at her indignation.

She groaned, then jumped as a hand slid around her waist.

"Jumpy tonight, love?" Sirius' eyes twinkled down at her.

"I'm fine," she smiled at him, then yelped as he started dragging her in the direction of the dance floor.

"Just follow my lead," he breathed into her ear as he pulled her into a waltz. They were soon gliding around the room, effortlessly due to Sirius' lithe feet.

She pulled off the dance floor after a few dances, laughing heartily. "That was wonderful, Sirius," she said truthfully, stopping to catch her breath.

Sirius' smile dropped minutely as he looked over her shoulder, and she turned to see Lucius walking over to them, his steely grey eyes fixed on her.

"Mrs. Malfoy," he drawled as he approached. "Black," he added with a scoff. "May I speak with you for a moment?" He grabbed her lightly by the elbow and began steering her out of the ballroom, pulling her out of an open set of double doors and onto a terrace. The view of the sprawling grounds and the stars twinkling in the sky beyond.

"The view is...breathtaking," she breathed, awestruck.

"Mm," Lucius hummed in agreement. "On the topic of _views_ , Mrs. Malfoy," She turned to him, puzzled. "Would you care to explain why I had to silence an entire _wing_ of portraits before any of our esteemed guests stumbled upon the display?" Her eyes widened as she recalled her _activities_ earlier that evening.

"I…" she flushed deeply, then gasped softly as she felt his hand slide around her waist and up her side, his fingers splayed just widely enough to brush the underside of her breast.

The calming draught certainly helped her to not jump her husbands, but it did _nothing_ to stop the coil of liquid heat from rushing between her legs when they _deliberately_ teased her. "I was…"

"You were what, Mrs. Malfoy?" His fingers curled tighter over her side, until one slid over her nipple, the fabric of her dress doing next to nothing to dim the sensation.

"Lu-ci-" she whimpered, cursing every nerve in her body that urged her to surge toward him and have him ravish her in near full view of their guests.

"You were _what_?" he repeated. He moved his hand briefly to spread the cloak she hadn't noticed he'd materialized over the both of them, likely appearing from behind as ever the doting husband, shielding his new wife from the chill while they admired the stars.

In reality, Lucius took their newfound cover as an opportunity to pull down her bodice to fully expose her breast, palming it roughly as she continued to whimper helplessly under his touch.

"I needed it," she moaned. "Lucius-" he cut her off abruptly by dragging her dress back into place and pulled away from her.

He leaned down to breathe into her ear. "Not until you _beg_." And he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for all the love, it's really been so motivating! Please note that I've made one small edit to chapter 1 - the law now requires that she have at least one child per man, not two. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOUR**

The following morning, she made her way from Harry's rooms down the grand staircase, hesitating at the bottom as she realized she had no idea where the Malfoys normally dined. She hovered, unsure of what to do before Arthur appeared from a room down the hall, his robes billowing slightly behind him as he rushed down the hall.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said, smiling at her. "I've got some affairs to get sorted out at the Burrow, but I'll be back this evening." He stepped past her, then paused, turning back to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before departing.

She blushed, running a finger over the spot he'd just kissed. Their shifting dynamic had been painfully awkward so far, and she had no clue how they would navigate their marriage. She moved toward the room her had emerged from, and heard the clinking of silverware and light conversation.

She was almost to the room when she caught a shift in her peripheral vision, and her eyes widened in horror as she looked up at another portrait of an unnamed Malfoy ancestor. The woman's platinum brow twisted in anger before she erupted: "DIS _GRACE_! WHORE! SHAME! SHAAAMMEEEEE!"

"What on earth-?" Harry rushed out of the doorway she'd been heading toward, mouth agape.

"HARLOOOOT! SHAME! SHAME! YOU SHOULD BE _HANGED_ FOR DISPLAYING YOUR FILTHY ACTI-" the portrait was cut off abruptly as Lucius emerged from behind Harry, silencing the portrait's screams with a flick of his wand.

She followed Harry and Lucius back into the room, face burning, to find the rest of her new husbands, sans Draco and Kingsley, staring at her over their breakfast.

"Good morning," she said quietly, aware of how formal her voice sounded in the presence of all these wizards.

"Morning, love," Sirius smiled, raising his glass to her. She suspected that the amber liquid swirling in his glass wasn't juice.

She sat at the nearest empty seat, which happened to be between Snape and Neville. Snape ignored her completely, turning back to his food. She squirmed in her seat, recalling the exact events the portrait the shrill portrait had been referring to.

"Morning, Hermione," Neville reached over to squeeze her hand reassuringly. "I'm sure it will pass soon enough."

"Really, Lucius, you could stand to teach your portraits some class," Harry grumbled, looking over at her with a concerned frown. "Are you alright?"

She squirmed again, hoping they could change the subject. "I'm fine, Harry," she mumbled. She felt acutely aware Snape's presence beside her, and it didn't help that Neville had moved his hand to her thigh, squeezing it in solidarity with Harry. She was reminded of the heightened pull she still felt towards the husbands she'd yet to consummate the marriage with, even despite the calming draught.

"It would help if you would refrain from defiling yourself on top of the portraits," Lucius drawled, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Her face flamed as half the men in the room dropped into stunned silence.

"Already making out to be quite the wife indeed, I see," Sirius quipped, smirking at her.

Snape continued to sit quietly behind her, appearing entirely unfazed by the events unraveling before them.

Pinky popped up beside her, startling her. "Mistress has a letter!" The tiny elf brandished an envelope and apparated away.

"I do not require any servants," she scowled at Lucius. "As a matter of fact-"

"Draco has already informed me of your feelings about elves. They are our servants, no more and no less, and this is a non-negotiable."

She seethed, opening her mouth to retort before he cut her off. "And if you dare to give them clothes" -he spat out the word as if it disgusted him- "both myself and the elves you abandon will be _most_ displeased."

Before she could answer, the sound of heels clicking down the hallway drew the room's occupants' attentions to the open doorway before Narcissa Malfoy appeared. She looked as stunning as always, dressed in draping silk robes that hinted at her flawless figure. Her platinum hair was twisted in an elegant chignon, and she was ever the picture beauty and grace, save for the sneer that twisted her on her scarlet-painted lips.

"Good morning, Severus," she greeted stiffly, before shooting an especially dark glare at Lucius, who appeared unaffected. When her eyes landed on Sirius, she arched a curious brow.

"I thought you were dead," she clipped indifferently.

"Why, if it isn't the former bitch in charge," Sirius said cheerfully. "Welcome, cousin." He raised his glass at her in a mock salute.

Hermione thought it impossible, but Narcissa's scowl deepened. Her eyes swept disdainfully around the room before landing on her. The woman's ice blue eyes flicked over her form, taking in Hermione's simple cotton robe and nightgown with clear distaste.

"How delightful to see that the whore has fully taken over my elf and my home," she sniffed, turning on her heel and exiting the room before Harry jumped to her rescue.

"That woman has to go," he snapped at Lucius.

For the first time she could recall, Lucius did not disagree with him. "Indeed, Potter," he answered. "Arrangements are being made."

"I, for one, vote that she be banished to Grimmauld Place," Sirius said. "Kreacher would be thrilled."

"That may be favorable," Lucius nodded slowly.

Hermione let out a small breath she hadn't realized she was holding at Lucius' acquiescence to Sirius' suggestion. She wasn't sure how many more encounters she could take with the frigid woman. She hurried through the rest of her meal, then stood to announce her leave. The letter she'd received slid off her lap as she stood, forgotten in the events following Pinky's arrival. She opened it, surprised to find a note from Ginny. _Grimmauld at 11,_ the note read simply in the red-haired woman's familiar curling script.

She excused herself to get dressed for the day, and stepped through the floo at Grimmauld Place a few minutes before 11.

"Welcome, Mistress Black!" Kreacher beamed at her, bowing deeply. Hermione blinked at him, used to his thinly veiled disdain even as Harry and Sirius constantly reminded him that she was the reason he'd been treated with the utmost kindness for the past year.

"Hello, Kreacher," she said awkwardly, before reaching over to pat him on the head.

He smiled up at her. "Thank you, missus."

"Oh! You may be pleased to know that Narcissa may be joining you soon," she told him.

Kreacher erupted in squeals of delight. "A true mistress returns to us!" he chanted, prancing about the room.

That was how Ginny found them, and she stepped through the floo with a baffled expression as she took in the elf's antics.

Hermione smiled at her, and Ginny's answering one was stiff in return. When Ginny stepped past her into the kitchen, Hermione couldn't help but give a small frown at the girl's retreating back.

Ginny was quiet in her seat, and so Hermione eventually broke the silence.

"Who...who were you matched with?" she asked, her voice feeling overly loud in the quiet room.

"Two Notts. Goldstein. Wood. Other inconsequential people." Ginny's voice was stiff.

"Oh, that's-"

"I didn't mean to really break up with him, you know," Ginny cut her off quietly.

"I-what?" Hermione said, flustered at the younger woman's tone.

"Harry, I mean. I didn't really mean to break up with him. I just wanted him to _understand_. Understand how it felt when he left me, why he left me, and how empty I felt without him despite everything else that was going on."

"Ginny," she said softly as the realization of why she had been acting so strangely dawned on her. "Ginny, I didn't know, I thought-"

"You thought wrong, Hermione. I- I love him," she said bitterly, glaring down at her curled fists that rested on the tabletop. "I _still_ love him," she clarified after a moment of tense silence.

"I'm so sorry, Gin," Hermione reached a hand across the tabletop, but Ginny snatched hers away.

"When did you start loving him?" she asked her, her eyes snapping up to meet Hermione's.

"I-"

" _When_?" Ginny snapped following Hermione's eyes even when she tried to look away.

"It was gradual, we were living together, and there was so much going on, I can't tell you when, I don't know-"

"You do. Stop lying," Ginny spat. "At Bill's funeral-" her voice tripped over the words "-he turned to you first. _You_ , not me, the sister, his girlfriend, his everything. You."

Hermione remained silent, too ashamed to speak, for she, too, recalled the moment with abject clarity. "It wasn't romantic, then-"

"But it started then," Ginny cut her off yet again. "I saw it, and it was like I was slowly falling apart, watching him slip away after everything, after all that _waiting_. He came to see me in the hospital every single day, but when he would leave, all I could think about was that he was returning home to _you_ every night."

Hermione sucked in a breath at her implications. "I would _never_ , please believe me."

"You might not have, but maybe it was too late for you to stop it by then." Ginny took in a deep breath before continuing, eyes flicking back to the tabletop. "I broke up with me because he'd hurt me the year he left, left with you and he was hurting me again and I wanted him to feel it, to understand it, and then come back to me. I've loved him for most of my life. I'd figured he could handle a few months, maybe a year of separation. I thought he would come and beg me for forgiveness, to take him back because now he _understood_ what I'd gone through waiting for him, and he couldn't handle doing the same.

"But instead, he stayed home and moped, moped to you and I realized I'd lost a long, long, long time ago because every road he ever takes will always lead him back to _you_."

Hermione felt tears gathering at the corner of her eyes, and looked down into her lap as the girl continued her tirade.

"You broke Ron's heart. _Shattered_ it. Why? Because you felt like there just wasn't a connection? You broke him, and _now…_ " she trailed off, and Hermione looked up at her to find Ginny staring straight at her, her eyes blazing with fury. "Now you've taken my father, too."

Hermione started crying outright then, hastily trying to wipe away her tears but failing as they only fell harder.

"My mother…" Ginny started again, a sad, faraway look in her eyes. "Mother came back to the Burrow yesterday, and said she'd visited you. That you'd looked so beautiful, and she'd meant it when she told you, but she...when she walked out of that room, she knew she couldn't look at you the same ever again, no matter what you did, no matter what you say. She's inconsolable, and you've been the center of _so much pain_ in our family.

"And Ron...Ron still gets this sad and empty look in his eyes when your name is mentioned, and nowI have to watch you parade around with Harry, finally able to show your pathetic love to the world."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, because they hadn't done anything publicly yet, really, but then abruptly snapped her mouth closed as she remembered that the marriage of two thirds of the Golden Trio would have surely been emblazoned across the front page of every paper in the nation by now.

"I'm so, so sorry," she sobbed.

"It might not all be your fault, but I don't know if _sorry_ will ever fix what's happened to us," Ginny said tonelessly. Not angry, not unkind, just chillingly matter-of-fact as they faced the harsh truth that lay in front of them.

The other woman left shortly after that, but Hermione stayed at the kitchen table, sobbing about the situation and the pain she had caused so many people.

 **X**

Eventually, as late afternoon light began filtering through the kitchen window, she felt another person step into the room with her. She gathered her breath, ready to tell Harry that she'd rather speak to him later on because she couldn't possibly face him now, not like this- when Neville slid into the seat Ginny had occupied only a few hours earlier instead.

"Neville?" she asked, incredulous. "Why are you…?"

"Kreacher came to the Manor a short while ago, looking rather distressed that his new mistress was "wailing death", whatever that means," he explained, giving her a small smile.

She sniffled a laugh, attempting to smile although she was certain it had come out looking more like a grimace.

He reached over and took her hand in his. "Are you alright?" he asked. He stroked her hand gently, and she smiled.

"I will be," she promised. "I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed, is all," she explained.

Neville searched her eyes before nodding. "Let's go do something," he said, standing up and offering his hand.

"Something like what?" she said, wiping at her face before she stood with him.

"Let's start with a walk, and see where the day takes us."

 **X**

The walked quietly through a muggle park not too far from Grimmauld Place. After an hour out in the calm, fresh air she started to feel like herself again, and pushed down the painful memories of her conversation with Ginny to be dealt with at a later date. Tall trees surrounded the path they walked along, and the sun beat down overhead, and Hermione could feel her already deep golden skin growing darker under its rays. A muggle woman rode by on her bicycle, eyes raking appreciatively over Neville's form as she took in his simple outfit of a button-down and fitted trousers. Hermione looked up at him and blushed, admitting to herself that he did make quite the sight, all lean muscle and tanned skin.

She lifted her hand to part a stray curl behind her ear, and caught the startled look of another muggle woman as the brilliant diamond on her finger caught the light, shining in its ethereal way. Neville caught her fingers in his as she lowered it from the light, lifting her ring to his lips to kiss it sweetly. He held her hand up next to his wedding band, and her jaw dropped in awe as she saw the ring's color shift to match the rubies that his wedding band was adorned with.

"We make quite the stunning couple, don't we?" She joked, intertwining their fingers as they continued to walk through the park.

"We do," he agreed. His eyes lit up suddenly, and he tugged her over to an ice cream stand nearby. "This stand is the best," he explained, ordering her a strawberry cone before pausing with a blush. "Sorry, that was automatic."

"Strawberry's my favorite," she smiled and accepted the cone from the man, eyes widening a fraction as Neville brandished some muggle money to pay for the treat.

"You've clearly been here before," she noted once they'd started walked again.

Neville blushed again. "Yeah...Luna and I, we'd do muggle things a lot, after the War, and… everything."

"You and Luna…?" She hadn't known, hadn't even had the slightest clue. Guilt washed through her - Luna had been one of their wedding guests.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "It's fine, really. It was something, but don't know if it ever would have panned out. We broke up when they announced the law, actually," he said. "No use in dragging it out and all, in case we didn't end up..." he trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Neville," she said sadly.

"I'm not," he answered her, stopping to look into her eyes. "I… I fancied myself in love with you for a few years, you know." He looked down at his shoes, blushing again.

"You _what_?" she asked, shocked.

He nodded, looking at her again. "Yeah… I figured I had no shot, but, well.." he lifted their joined hands, quirking up his mouth slightly.

"Funny how things work out, isn't it?" she smiled. He leaned down and kissed her, and she accepted it happily, kissing him back with fervor.

By the time he pulled back, they were breathless, and more than a few muggles were watching them with looks that varied from disgust to mirth. He laughed at their audience and pulled her off in a new direction.

They spent the rest of the day exploring, eating and shopping, and she fell into her new relationship with Neville comfortably. When they had finished their final bout of shopping where he had joking pretended to try on some risqué lingerie pieces for her, she realized that she could see easily see herself falling for him over time. Their relationship would be different than hers and Harry's, more sweet and gentle, but strong as the everlasting current of a hundred-year-old stream.

They apparated back home, landing directly in her newly redecorated rooms now that the wards had been altered to allow all members of the Granger family safe passage in and out of the home.

"Where should I…?" he held up a few of the bags of clothing she'd purchased, and she spun around, realizing she'd only spent a brief period of time in the room while getting ready for the wedding, and hadn't the slightest clue which door lead to the closet. She crossed the large room and opened the doors nearest her large, elaborately canopied bed to reveal a grand bathroom. She paused, in awe for a moment at the sheer splendor of the room. It was completely made of white marble, dominated by a large bathtub in the middle filled with gleaming faucets that would put Hogwarts' prefects' bathroom to shame.

"Wow," Neville said from behind her. "Just...wow."

She gaped for a moment longer before pulling the doors closed and crossing the pillow-soft carpet to the other side of the room, where she pulled open another set of sprawling double doors. These doors lead to a massive closet, that had been charmed to add a second story within the room.

"Oh _wow_ ," Neville gaped, walking in past her, the shopping bags in his hands slipping to the gleaming marble floor, forgotten.

"This is ridiculous," she breathed as she watched Neville cross the room and head up the golden spiral staircase to the second floor, muttering various words of awe.

She walked along a wall lined with glass-doored cabinets, each chock-full of clothing of a variety of materials, all of which looked exceedingly expensive. She moved deeper into the closet, pulling open a glass door to finger a set of soft, silky robes. She pulled the dress out further, and realized that it was a maternity dress, likely designed by Ismerlda, along with most of the other items in the room. She closed the door softly, and crossed the room to open another. This one, she realized with surprise, held a multitude of elegant muggle outfits. Lucius really had thought of everything.

She climbed the stairs and was surprised to see Neville stopped in a doorway, unmoving. "Neville, what are you-" she stopped suddenly as she walked past him into the room, instantly wishing she hadn't. It was filled with high floor-to-ceiling glass cabinets, their contents unmistakeable through the polished glass.

Lingerie. Every style and color imaginable, ranging from demure - well, as _demure_ as clothing meant to entice could be - to dozens of levels more scandalous than what Neville had played around with in the muggle shopping mall.

They stood in shocked silence for a long while as their eyes roved around the room.

She turned to Neville, wondering if she was due to spend the rest of her days blushing considering how much of it she'd done over the past few days.

"Maybe we should-" she stopped as Neville took in a shaky breath before crossing over to the nearest cabinet and pulling it open, picking out a lacy black teddy.

"Would you like to...try this?" His voice came out shaky, and his eyes flicked down to the garment as back up to her. "For me, I mean," he cheeks were tinged pink. "Gods, I'm no good at this, but since we have to...you know, and-"

She cut him off with a kiss, pulling his face down until her lips met his. "I'd love to," she breathed.

She wondered if he'd caught the slight tremble in her hands as she slid her cardigan off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. She noticed that it had disappeared as soon as it touched the floor, and she imagined that it had reappeared elsewhere in the room, hung neatly on a plush velvet hanger.

Neville spun around quickly as he caught her intentions, the pink in his cheeks having deepened to red.

"You can-you can watch, if you'd like," she whispered as her dress pooled around her ankles briefly before disappearing as well.

"I-s'alright," Neville mumbled, and she could see the back of his neck reddening further. She couldn't help giggling at his sudden bashfulness.

She wondered where her sudden gusto had come from - was it the only bonding magic urging this side of her, or had it always existed within her, dormant until it has been teased out? She urged the troubling thoughts away as she let her undergarments fall to the ground. Well, there was no turning back now.

She picked up the piece Neville had chosen, cheeks flaming. It barely constituted lingerie at all. She pulled it on quickly before she lost her nerve and peeked into one of the tall mirrors adorning the room. It pressed her breasts up in a decidedly naughty way, giving her an ample amount of cleavage. The rest of the garment was a thin, transparent lace, dotted intermittently with curling flowers that seemed to undulate over her body. It barely covered her mound, and even the smallest movement made bits of her nether regions peek out.

"Neville," she called out softly. "Would you like to see?"

He turned slowly until he was facing her, and froze again, not unlike the way he had been frozen when she'd found him only minutes earlier. She moved closer to him until her breasts touched his chest lightly. "Do you like it?" she asked innocently, peeking up at him through her lashes.

He groaned loudly before he snatched her up suddenly and lead her over to the large glass and marble slab that dominated the center on the room. She brief spied rows of undergarments through the glass parts of the structure before Neville leaned forward and covered her body with his.

"You're perfect, Hermione," he groaned, leaning his head down to bury his face in her cleavage. He groaned something else, but his words were muffled by her cleavage.

She pulled at the straps of the teddy until they slipped down over her shoulders, shimmying until she felt her bare breasts slide free against Neville's face.

"Oh, gods," she heard him mumble again, and she dragged his head up so he could kiss her. They kissed deeply for a long while, and he rutted against her core, his hard length poking at her through his trousers. He moved to kiss down her neck and her head rolled to the side. She fluttered her eyes open to find herself staring into a mirror, and moaned at what she saw.

Neville reached a hand down to undo his trousers, and she watched as a strip of his bare buttocks and thigh appeared between where her bare legs were wrapped against him. The teddy was bunched around her middle, and she gasped, watching her mouth drop open in a moan as he laved at one of her nipples yet again.

He pulled her into a kiss again and she turned away from the mirror, focused on the feeling of her husband's body covering hers. He slid into her with ease, and they let out twin moans at their union. He started a slow rhythm, sliding in and out of her body slowly and languidly, savoring every moment of their union. She lost herself in the sensation of their bodies undulating together, occasionally kissing him until the pleasure became too much and she had to let out a long moan.

"Come for me, Neville," she breathed into his neck after a long while of this. She felt him groan loudly into her shoulder nipping at the skin there before he increased his pace. He came shortly after, the slide of his release coating her insides. He pulled out slowly, and she felt some of his come dribble out of her and onto the hard marble below her. She wondered vaguely if that would be charmed away as instantly as her clothing had been.

Neville leaned over to kiss her again, and she smiled into it.

"I should, uh," he gestured to his rumpled appearance, and she giggled. "You should," she nodded, and he soon apparated back to his rooms, leaving her where she lay, naked and sated.

* * *

 **Thank you all so much for all the love. This chapter is the start of the shift from more lightheartedness into a bit of angst. It won't be completely angsty, but I want to stay as true to the spirit of the characters I'm using as possible, so that means exploring old wounds and shifting dynamics. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter regardless! I'd like to finish writing chapter eight before I start posting the others I have finished, but that should hopefully be soon. xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Hermione sat on her bed in the dark, wringing her hands nervously. In the far corner of the room, a large clock ticked loudly, signalling midnight. She'd been sitting there for hours, now, since night had fallen and she'd had no excuse but to retreat to her rooms after roaming the every inch of the Manor, and then the grounds. When she'd returned to her room, she had occupied her time by skimming over books she'd already read, then pacing, then skimming some more. Then she'd just sat. Sat and stared out blankly ahead of her, knowing that she would have to face this tonight, because that was what the order of names on the rumpled page clutched in her hands dictated, and she could no longer delay the inevitable. She longed for the easiness she'd experienced with Neville the day before, knowing that there would be nothing of the sort on this night.

A sharp rap on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she knew her throat was too dry for her to utter an answer even if she'd wanted to. Her visitor waited only a few seconds before entering. He moved across the plush carpet in shadowy silence, until he stepped into a patch of moonlight thrown in from one of the large windows. It illuminated his blond hair and pale skin in an ethereal glow, and she found herself yet again enraptured by his beauty.

"Were you planning on making me wait all night, Granger?" Draco spoke softly, his voice lacking bite it had held in their public interactions over the past few days.

"Malfoy," she corrected her name quietly, automatically, reminding him of who they were, and what they had become. They were so much more than just _Draco_ and _Hermione_ , now. She continued to look at him, her eyes sweeping over his lean body. He seemed smaller than usual when contrasted against her room, made up high ceilings and towering windows. Yet, she could not deny that he was the figurative elephant in the room, and had been since she'd first pulled his profile out of that infernal envelope. She'd allowed herself to only touch on him briefly in her thoughts, avoiding physical contact or time alone with him altogether. She'd known she'd have to face him soon enough, but she still wished she could have delayed this moment for as long as possible.

"We don't have to talk," he replied finally, moving closer to her still. She felt the echo of his unsaid words in his tone: _not now, maybe not ever_.

She nodded in response, hoping he caught the movement. She almost let out a bitter laugh at the irony of the situation. Here they were, meeting as husband and wife, yet they shared fewer words than when they'd been enemies.

He moved closer still, until he pushed her back gently onto the bed, where she blinked slowly as she landed in a bright patch of moonlight. She peered up at him, expectant, unmoving. He looked down at her, his eyes searching hers for a moment until he reached down and began undoing his belt. She reached up automatically and began undoing the buttons of his shirt methodically. He looked up at her, and his gaze swept over her outstretched arms before he froze.

She followed his gaze, then sucked in a sharp breath as she saw what his eyes were focused on.

Oh, how cruel the fates had been to her yet again. It was normally hidden under her long sleeves or robes, or concealed by the cloak of night. When necessary, she used a glamour. But tonight, of course, _tonight_ , of all nights, she'd forgotten, and in the bright patch of moonlight that stretched across her body the faded word etched into her forearm was clear: _Mudblood_.

She reached up and pulled his face down to hers, kissing him desperately as she tried to divert his attention.

"I'm alright, Draco," she whispered, kissing along his cheek, pretending that she didn't taste the salty tear had fallen there. "Draco," she whispered again, pulling him down onto her as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing down his opened trousers with her free hand.

She raised her hands to his face again, kissing his closed eyelids before capturing his lips once more. "Draco, please," she whispered as she pulled back. She reached down and tugged at his pants, exposing his semi-erect length and pumping it slowly until she felt it hardening under her touch. He groaned softly, sliding a hand up and taking the edge of her short silk slip up to her waist with it. "Don't think, just feel," she urged softly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her neck, and she clutched at his hair in response, feeling her own cheeks wet with a mix of their tears. A piece of her deep down inside lamented at the fact that their first time had to be like this.

She guided him into her, gasping as he entered her. "So sorry," he breathed again as he started moving inside her.

She pulled him closer to her, whispering reassurances into his skin until they felt melded together as one, an indistinguishable mass of pleasure and pain.

 **X**

The next morning she awoke tangled in her sheets, Draco sleeping soundly beside her. She reached over to smooth a hand over his cheek, wishing the soft innocent look on his sleeping face could stay like this forever, unmarred by the pains of their past.

She slid out of the bed slowly, careful not to wake up, and made her way to the bathroom. She had just finished washing up when she heard him enter behind her. They wordlessly freshened up together, then made their way to the dining room in silence.

Harry's lips hardened into a thin line when he saw them enter together, but said nothing. They ate in relative silence until Harry said: "Snape, could you pass the sausages?"

Snape paused and looked up at Harry, eyes narrowing for a moment before he returned to his meal.

"Greasy old bat," Harry muttered angrily, summoning the plate of sausages so that it landed beside him with a clatter.

"Snivellus," Sirius said simply, giving Snape a sidelong look.

"Bastard," Draco muttered, glaring at Sirius.

"Don't insult my godfather," Harry snapped at Draco, eyes shooting daggers at the blond.

"Then you'd do well not to insult _mine_ ," Draco shot back.

They lapsed into a tense silence, the only sound the rhythmic clinking of silverware on porcelain. Hermione looked around the room and caught Arthur looking at her, and he smiled.

"Are you going to be attending George's wedding this weekend?" Arthur said conversationally, looking over at her.

"Yes, I received the invitation yesterday evening," she nodded, grateful for the light topic.

"Who's he marrying?" Harry asked, looking up.

Arthur winced slightly. "Dolores Umbridge," he answered.

Harry gaped, looking over at Hermione, who nodded sadly. "We've both been invited to attend, if you don't mind, I mean…"

"They assigned him to that-?" Harry continued to gape, his face twisted in shock and disgust.

"Unfortunately," Hermione answered sadly. "Erm, Draco," she looked over to the blond. "Your name was on the invitation as well." He scowled into his plate, cleary having already been informed of his friend's unfortunate news.

" _Him_? Why?" Harry asked.

"Blaise Zabini is one of her….betrothed, as well," Hermione said. "You two are still quite close, aren't you?" she asked.

Draco scoffed. "Doesn't mean I wish to be anywhere near the old bitch," he muttered into his plate.

"Oh, so she's the old bitch to you now, hmm?" Harry muttered darkly.

"She always was, Potter," Draco said evenly.

Harry glared at him. "Oh really? Is that why you followed her every whim in fifth year like a chained dog?"

"Drop it, Potter." Hermione tensed at the dangerous pitch of Draco's voice.

"I'd rather not. She's an old bitch now, but was she when you watched her nearly torture me-"

"I said _drop it_ , Potter!" Draco raised his voice, anger rolling off of him in waves.

"No, Malfoy, I'd love to hear you excuse yourself from this one," Harry snapped back.

"She was blackmailing him," Hermione's words were quiet, yet they cut through the tension in the room like a knife. Even Snape had looked up from his meal at this, looking at her with a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

"She was-what did you just say, Hermione?" Harry said incredulously, eyes snapping to her.

She looked down into her lap, toying with her fingers. "She was blackmailing him, Harry," she said again. "Just let it go," she added quietly, preserving a thin ray of hope that he _would_ let it go, and move back to eating in silence.

"You can't possibly expect me to-" Harry stuttered, at a loss for words. "How do you know that, Hermione?"

Later, she would cycle through the multitude of excuses, a dozen different scenarios that she could have made up to explain it away. Instead, she she took a deep breath and said the truth: "Because she was blackmailing him about me."

She'd thought that the dining room had been silent before. But no, oh no, she hadn't truly understood silence until that moment, when it seemed like no one in the room was breathing under the weight of her revelation.

"I don't...understand, Hermione," Harry said finally.

Her eyes flicked up briefly to meet Draco's, and they were an angry, stormy grey, swimming with an unreadable emotion.

"He…" she swallowed, looking at him again, flashes of the previous night and all the unspoken things between them flitting through her mind. "We…"

"You what, Hermione?" Harry's voice was hard now, instead of confused, and she knew that he was inching closer to the truth, figuring out exactly what monumental thing could have happened between _Hermione Granger_ and _Draco Malfoy_ to allow Umbridge to blackmail him for an entire year.

"Hermione," he repeated. She shied away at his anger, never before having heard him say her name like _that,_ as if it were a dirty word.

"We dated, on and off, for...nearly two years," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper on the air.

That dreadful silence descended again, and she felt her eyes welling up as she trembled under the weight of her revelation.

"How-" Harry started, and she felt her answer tumbling out in a desperate jumble as she tried to clear up the mess she'd made, although she knew it would be as effective as trying to smooth out crumpled paper.

"It was during fifth and sixth year, so long ago-"

"-did it end?" Harry finished his question, his voice devoid of emotion. His questions caught her off guard, and she paused before she could answer.

Hermione finally looked up at him, and felt a tear slip down her face at the look of pure betrayal in his green eyes.

"I…" she hesitated, drowning under the pressure of the look in his eyes. "We… we almost got caught - a-again - and... he….he ended it," she answered truthfully. She searched his eyes for the love and adoration she'd seen there only a day before, and found none of it, it having been buried under a sea of anger and betrayal.

"By whom?" Harry spat bitterly. "Snape?"

She looked down at her lap again, unable to bear the heat of his furious gaze. "No," she whispered. "Lucius."

Her face burned in shame, and she felt she gazes of the men in question - as well as the others in the room - boring into her.

Harry shoved back out of his seat and exited the room abruptly. She followed, carefully avoiding the eyes of the rest of her husbands as she tore out of the room after him. She caught him at the end of the hall, and grabbed his elbow.

"Harry, please, let me expl-"

"EXPLAIN?!" He exploded, so unlike the other times she's been subject to his anger. It was so, so much worse. "You carried on with my worst enemy behind my back for years, Hermione! YEARS!"

"Harry…" she whimpered, pulling at him desperately.

He snatched himself away from her touch, as if her very presence disgusted him. "You. Lied. To. Me," he seethed, and she shrank back.

"I didn't-"

"You didn't what? Hermione? You didn't mean to go around sleeping with my enemy behind my back?"

"You're the first man I've ever slept with, I swear! He was just my first...everything else," she added uselessly.

He spat out a bitter laugh. "I'd wondered briefly, you know, why you'd been calling him "Draco", this whole time, even in private, and not "Malfoy" like you did when we were in school," he said. "I thought it was because you were trying to get used to the idea of being with him, and I almost applauded you for it. For trying, despite the circumstances."

She was wordless, her vision blurred by the tears streaming down her face.

"But you got just what you wanted, didn't you?" He reached out and grabbed her chin suddenly, forcing her to look at him. "Do you still love him?"

He knew didn't need to ask her if she ever had, because she was his best friend, and it was written all over her face. "I...I don't know," she choked out. They'd been broken up for nearly two years, but now they had been reunited as husband and wife, and she knew she'd felt the emotions she'd suppressed for so long rolling around deep in her spirit from the moment she'd found out about their impending union, shoved down but not forgotten. "But I love you, I do, I _swear_ it-"

Her ignored her words, cutting her off. "In sixth year, I spent all that time trying to figure out what he was doing, and you tried _so hard_ to convince me that I was being paranoid…" he trailed off, leaving the rest of the words unsaid.

"I didn't know," she said honestly. "I asked, and he said no, every time, he said _no_ , and I didn't know, really, _I didn't_ ," she swore, reaching out for him again. He pulled back, giving her a disgusted look.

"Would you have stayed with him, if he'd asked?" Harry said. _Even after he'd tried to kill Dumbledore?_ He asked silently, eyes hard and unyielding.

"No! I promise you, _no._ Harry…" she tried again, her voice small and broken. "Please…"

"'I love you most'", he said sarcastically, spitting the words she'd spoken to him only a couple of nights before back in her face before turning on his heel and storming off.

She stood there for a long while, sobbing quietly. She knew she needed to move soon, because her other husbands had undoubtedly heard the rest of the heated exchange and would be emerging soon. She began making her way across the entrance hall, stopping short as the heard the ominous click of heels sound across the way. She looked up to see Narcissa's poised figure paused across the room, watching her quietly. Her lip was curled in disgust, and Hermione didn't need to ask to know that the woman had heard the exchange, too.

Narcissa didn't need to say the word, because her sharp, angry gaze communicated her thoughts all too well, and Hermione realized was a start that she'd _known_ , she'd somehow known and _that_ was why the word she'd emblazoned across Hermione's wall as she was ousted from her rooms radiating off of her in a wave, as if the woman was shouting at her: _Whore_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Follow me on social media! On tumblr, I'm blankfishxx, and on Facebook you can add me as Blank Fish!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER SIX**

Hermione sighed, sinking into a seat in one of the chairs in one of St. Mungo's many halls. She'd been working nonstop since she'd departed the Manor that morning, channeling her pent-up emotions into caring for as many patients as possible. A door slid open beside her, and Healer Browne stepped out, her eyes taking in Hermione's slumped form.

"You've done some excellent work today, Healer Gr-" the older woman hesitated over her name.

"Granger's still fine," Hermione sighed, accepting the bottle of water the other Healer handed to her gratefully.

The other woman nodded, settling down beside her. "You've worked hard today," she noted. "Maybe a little too hard. Besides, it's-" she looked at the clock across the hall "-nearly midnight. Wouldn't you like head home for the night?"

Hermione looked away. "I'm fine," she said quietly. "I can do a few more rounds."

The older witch pursed her lips. "I'd rather you didn't."

Hermione looked back at her, frowning. "We've only so many Healers left since the law has passed, and the male Healers will stretched so thin when they lose all the witches on staff below the law's cutoff age once they start getting pregnant." She sighed. "I'll be pregnant soon enough, and barely able to work…" She cringed, dreading her first pregnancy, which would be made all the more difficult by its forced acceleration.

The older witch studied her for a while longer before standing. "Very well then," she said. "Shall we?"

Hermione nodded, and stood. Or, rather, _attempted_ to stand, as she suddenly found her world tilting dangerously sideways. The stark white hallways blurred for a quick moment before she was pulled upright by the other Healer.

"Are you alright?" Healer Browne asked, her voice laced with concern.

"M'fine," Hermione slurred before swaying again, realizing with a shock that she was decidedly _not_ fine, before she felt her vision begin to swirl with darkness.

 **X**

Hermione's eyes flew open and she shot up suddenly, yelping "Excuse me-!" before she stuck her head over the side of the bed she vaguely registered she was lying on and promptly began retching violently on the floor.

"Jesus, love," she heard Sirius say from across the room when she finally stopped. She looked up to see him sitting across from her, and Healer Browne stood at the end of her bed, pausing the diagnostic charms she'd been casting briefly to banish the mess she'd made.

"You all right?" Sirius crossed the now-spotless floor over to the bed, where he ran a hand through her curls in concern.

"Fine," she croaked, her voice hoarse. She looked up at Healer Browne questioningly. "What-?"

"Congratulations, Healer Granger," she said with a small smile. "You're pregnant."

Hermione gaped at her, processing the witch's words. "I don't...what?" she said quietly.

"With child, up to the duff," Sirius clarified, grey eyes twinkling down at her.

She managed to reach up a weak arm to smack him lightly. "Not what I meant, Sirius." She turned back to Healer Browne. "What I meant was, so soon?"

The older Healer cast a a familiar charm on her stomach, and an unmistakable white glow appeared over it.

"Wow," Hermione breathed, looking down at it. "I didn't think...so soon…"

Healer Browne nodded sharply. "Magic as ancient as what we're working with can be unpredictable. We'd estimated it would take at least a week, maybe two, to conceive due to the delicate nature of the bonding magic. But this is fantastic news, Healer Granger," she smiled.

Hermione attempted to smile back, but knew that it had come out as a pained grimace instead. "When am I…?

"...due?" Healer Browne finished for her. "We calculated it to be in around three months. Although, it could be slightly less, or more. In any case, seeing as though you're the first successful pregnancy of this...program, we'll have to keep you overnight for observation."

Hermione nodded, looking over at Sirius. "Will you…?"

"Of course," he smiled, kissing her forehead sweetly. "I'll be here all night." She recalled that it was his night, and they would be spending it here, instead of at home. She was grateful that the man didn't seem to mind.

She saw Healer Browne bow out of the room quietly as they displayed their affection, and she squeezed his hand gratefully. "Does anyone…?"

"I was nearest the floo when Healer Browne called, and, as far as I know, I'm the only one who knows you're here," he said.

She let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Good."

They sat quietly, and she enjoyed his easy company and warmth. She couldn't deny that she always felt safe around Sirius.

"How is he?" she asked him quietly, looking down into her lap.

"He just needs time," Sirius reassured her. "Harry is...passionate. As passionate as James was at his age." Hermione's heart panged as she realized that James had only been around the age Harry currently was when he'd died. "Passionate about everything, especially love." Sirius chuckled.

"I remember when I first met him, and felt the heat of his anger and betrayal, so fiercely loyal to all that he thought he knew about me. I was so proud," he said. She looked over at him, and he was looking wistfully off into the distance. "I knew that, in that moment, he was destined to be the boy who lived because someone with any less than the amount of passion that boy held within him would be no match for what he'd come to face in life." Sirius' eyes darkened, and he looked down quickly, but not before she caught the broken look in his eyes.

"Sirius," she asked quietly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, love," the older man said quietly, still looking down.

"Please don't lie to me," she asked, her voice soft with understanding. "Don't ever feel that you have to."

When he finally looked up at her, she was momentarily startled to see his eyes shining with tears. "I was supposed to be there," Sirius said quietly, his voice laced with shame and sadness. He looked so open and vulnerable, so unlike the easygoing man she'd come to know since, always with a joke ready to roll off his tongue.

"What...was it like?" she asked, broaching a subject they hadn't dared venture into since he'd been spit out of the Veil, ensuring them countless times that _yes, we was completely fine_ , and _no, nothing had happened, so there was nothing to talk about_.

"Nothing," he said simply. "It was nothing. Nothing at all…" His voice sounded sad and distant.

"Oh Sirius," she whispered, pulling him into an embrace. The dark-haired man didn't cry, but he heaved heavy breaths into her shoulder as she pressed him tightly to her. She kissed his hair and the parts of his face she could reach, hoping she was communicating all the love and admiration she felt for him.

He pulled away eventually. "I was supposed to be there for him. James entrusted me with that, and instead…" his voice dropped. "Instead, I was doing nothing. Just existing, in that endless nothingness, until suddenly I'm out, and _everything_ has changed, so much has changed. And I. Did. _Nothing_." His voice was overlain with bitterness over the melancholy.

"You did so much," she promised him. "So, so much more than you know."

He didn't respond, and turned to stare out the window instead. He pulled out a flask from his robes, and she laid a gentle hand over his to stop him. "Sirius, please," she said sadly, wondering why she'd never questioned his drinking before, instead chalking it up to his enjoyment of the pleasures he'd earned after all his trials. "You were his hope, his motivation, the one true father figure he's ever known," she continued. "He loved you fiercely, and lost you, and he fought for you, for everything you'd shown him about how beautiful life can be and for that he will forever be grateful, and love you with everything he has. He's the most passionate man we know," she added sadly. Passionate in love. Passionate in hate. She wondered which side he would sort her in after her betrayal.

He didn't respond, but he lowered the flask and rested his head on her lap, letting her thread her fingers through his head until she heard his soft snores.

Hours later, she awoke to the soft rays of morning light filtering through the windows of her room. Sirius was still snoring softly in her lap, and she nudged him gently awake just as Healer Janne stepped into the room.

"I've read through the files Healer Browne left last night," the kindly woman explained as she began to cast a few diagnostic spells. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Hermione said, stretching experimentally. Her nausea had subsided, and she swung her legs over the edge of the bed experimentally. "Great, actually."

Healer Janne smiled. "Good," she smiled. "You're free to go. And _don't_ come back," she added as the turned to leave. "Unless you're here for medical treatment. I mean it, Healer Granger."

Hermione grumbled reluctantly. "Alright," she sighed, standing up and stretching.

Sirius chuckled at her antics, and held out a hand. "Shall we, Mrs. Black?" His eyes held their usual mirth, along with a hint of gratefulness. She nodded at him with a smile, and they went home.

 **X**

That afternoon, she found herself standing outside of Lucius' study, hesitating as she raised her hand to knock.

"Come in, Mrs. Malfoy," she heard him say from inside with a clipped tone. The door swung open, and she stepped in to find he watching her carefully, his expression unreadable.

She crossed the large room and sat in a plush armchair in front of his desk. "I'd like to speak to you," she said.

"Clearly," Lucius drawled, looking entirely unamused.

"I'd like to speak to you, as...as my father in law, I mean," she blushed. She looked up to find him arching an eyebrow. He hadn't throw her out yet, so she continued. "I'm sorry about my...indiscretions...with your son. I, the timing, and, uh, the circumstances, and, now…" she trailed off. She had no idea where she was going with her apology, just that she had to say _something_.

He waited silently for her to continue.

She opened her mouth to speak again, then closed it again. "Right, then," she said after a few more moments of tense silence, standing to take her leave.

She was halfway across the room when he spoke. "I don't recall dismissing you," he said lowly, and she spun to find him standing dangerously close to her. She jumped back, startled at his swiftness, only for him to snatch her by the waist and pull her toward him.

Her heart began racing in her chest as she stared up at him, wondering what this next move would be.

Brown eyes met grey for a few long moments before Lucius leaned down swiftly and latched his lips against her neck, just below her ear. She let out a startled moan and grasped at his flowing silver-blond hair, unsure of whether she wanted to pull him closer or push him away.

Before she could make up her mind, he moved to sweep his lips gently across her collarbone. She thanked the gods that she'd decided to wear a long sleeved dress that day, which covered decidedly more than the one Ismerlda had vanished the week before.

She took that thought back almost instantly when she felt him snake a hand up under the hem of her dress, palming her mound with practiced ease. She let out a gasp, and then a moan as he pressed a digit hard against her clit through her knickers.

"Your past transgressions will not go unpunished," he said lowly into her ear, sliding two fingers across her intimately. She bit her lip hard to stop herself from whimpering under his touch.

"But I promise, I _will_ make you beg for it," he finished before drawing his hand out from under her dress, leaving her body tingling with the need for release.

She stood, panting softly as she watched him cross back over to his desk, calmly reading a from piece of parchment. She turned and all but ran from the room, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

 **X**

She skipped dinner that evening, electing Sirius to tell the rest of her husbands her pregnancy news, still too embarrassed to face them all again after the events of the previous day. Instead, she opted to spend her time in the Malfoys' massive library, researching pregnancy. She was standing on the second floor of the library, thumbing through titles, when she was surprised to come across a book simply titled "Pregnancy for the Muggle Born Witch". She wondered if they'd left it there for her perusal, or if a house full of purebloods had actually owned such a book.

She thumbed through the book for hours, making notes of all the differences it listed between muggle and magical pregnancy. She'd been so absorbed in her reading that she didn't notice the other presence in the room until the man cleared his throat, causing her to jump about a foot in the air.

"Sorry," Draco mumbled. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she blushed, gesturing for him to sit beside her. When he settled down, she turned to him. "Are _you_ alright?" she asked him in return.

He paused before nodding sharply. "I'm fine," he said.

"I'm sorry," she rushed out. "I didn't mean for it to come out there, like that, I just- Gods, Draco, I'm so-" she cut off abruptly as he picked up her arm, running a finger along her covered forearm.

"Watching…" he whispered. "It-it felt like death," he said.

She sat, silent, eyes frozen upon where he held her.

"Worse than death," he said quietly. "Losing you…would be worse than death. So much worse."

She moved until she straddled him lightly, gathering him into a hug. "Watching you," she answered after into his hair after a long while, "watching you, with that terrified look in your eyes, stuck there - here - with _him_ , felt like death," she breathed. "So much worse than death."

And they cried together, yet again. She pulled him tightly to him, initiating no intimacy but instead wrapping him with all the affection she'd suppressed for the years they'd been separated.

"I want to start again with you," he said after they'd both calmed. "Slowly...like the beginning." She closed her eyes, recalling their clandestine meetings, the fear they'd felt always looking over their shoulders as they stole whatever moments of affection they could, compounded by the strong, unwavering love that had grown between them, until the circumstances of _dark_ versus _light_ had torn them apart.

They had a lot - so, so much more to unpack before they could resume where he'd broken it off suddenly and inexplicably, leaving her in the dark until she'd found out what had happened on the Astronomy Tower.

But they also had time, so _so_ much time, and she knew they would make it there.

 **X**

Later that evening, long after Draco had left in the library with a chaste kiss good-bye, she found herself making the dreaded trek to Arthur's rooms. She stood outside for a long while before steeling her resolve and knocking, entering once he called out in the affirmative.

"Hullo, Hermione," he said, standing up from his sofa and folding away the book in his lap. _Muggle Inventions and Artifacts, Volume III_ , its cover read. She smiled fondly at it, and then at him.

"I…" she started, hesitant. "It's your night, Arthur," she said quietly, forcing down the urge to call him Mr. Weasley.

He smiled down at her, his eyes taking on a sad tinge. He stepped forward and pressed a gentle hand to her still flat stomach. "Congratulations," he said, pulling her into a gentle hug.

She melted into him gratefully, marveling at how he still smelled like the Burrow even though they'd been living in the Manor for nearly a week now. Her heart panged as she recalled her conversation with Ginny sadly, knowing it was true, and knowing that there was nothing she could do about it.

He pulled back and looked at her. "You're pregnant, so we don't have to."

"I-I know," she said quietly. "But I promised you all I wouldn't deny any of you even if I was, and I meant it."

"Always so honest, Hermione," he said, cupping her cheek affectionately. "Don't ever change."

She smiled, then exhaled before lifting a shaky hand to begin unbuttoning his checkered shirt, studiously avoiding his eyes.

His hands came up to tug hers away, and she looked up at him questioningly. "You're pregnant, and that means we don't have to do this right here, right now."

Before she could open her mouth to speak, he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. It happened quickly, too quick for her to align her thoughts with how wrong she felt about the situation.

"And that's how we'll start," he said simply, smiling down at her again as he pulled back. She reached out and gripped his hand gratefully, knowing the gesture couldn't even begin to encompass the gratitude she felt.

"Thank you," she said finally, and left.


	7. Chapter 7

**Please note that there is some slight dubcon in this chapter - please do skip it if that upsets you.**

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* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVEN**

"Come in," Harry's neutral voice floated through the door, and she swallowed nervously before pushing it open. She crossed his sitting room and into his bedroom, where she found him sitting at his writing desk, quill in hand.

"Harry," she said quietly.

He turned to look at her, his eyes hard. "Why are you here?" he asked simply, coldly.

"Harry, I-"

"Leave," he spat, before turning back to his letter.

"Harry," she said softly, pleadingly.

"Is it my night?" he asked.

She blinked for a moment, then responded. "No, it isn't, but-"

"Good. Don't come when it is, either. I don't want to see you."

"Please don't be like this," she whispered. "Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it, just please don't-"

"What I want-" He didn't turn, but his words were clear, almost echoing in the large room, "-is for you to leave."

She took in a shaky breath, watching the tightness in his shoulders and yearning to go over and touch him.

"Now," he spat again, and she fled.

Her heart panged heavily as she made it into her room and threw herself upon the bed, sobbing. She'd been the subject of his anger, his ire, his frustration... but never his rejection. It had come to her, so painfully acute, that she shuddered in pain under the force of it.

Pinky found her a long time later, simply laying down a steaming meal on a tray along with her pregnancy potions before disapparating.

Later that night, she found herself in Kingsley's bed, riding the man with vigor as he shuddered beneath her. Surprisingly, their copulation hadn't felt awkward or forced, and she'd melted easily under his touch, simply grateful for the chance to release her tension and forget her painful encounter with Harry.

 **X**

After breakfast the next morning, she wandered down to the dungeons to find Snape, on Kingsley's suggestion that she help the man with brewing mass amounts of the concentrated calming draught to be deployed to the public.

She descended the steps into the chilly lower levels of the Manor, her footsteps sounding loudly in the dark corridor despite the trainers she wore. She pulled open a few doors at random, finding only old furniture, cobwebs, and questionable-looking metal contraptions.

By the time the found Snape's lab, he was glaring up at her from the cauldron in front of him. "I'm surprised you haven't awoken Salazar himself with all that racket," Snape drawled, his voice dripping with disdain.

She flushed. "Sorry," she said, stepping into the room and looking around at the shelves and cupboards that lined the long room, filled to the brim with a variety of ingredients. Snape stood at a long table in the center of the room, three massive cauldrons in front of him. Two had been charmed to mix themselves, and Snape was perched over the third, paused as he glared at her.

"What do you want?" he snapped, clearly annoyed that she had deigned to venture past the doorway.

"I came to help," she said, rolling her shoulders back and straightening as she refused to be intimidated.

His dark eyes flicked over her form before he returned to his brewing, ignoring her completely. She moved over to one of the cauldrons that stirred itself and was lifting her hands to begin stirring it herself when he reached out and sntached her by the wrist.

"I do not recall giving you permission to join me," he sneered at her.

She huffed in response. "Well, you didn't ask me to leave, either."

"Leave," he snapped, glaring at her.

"No," she crossed her arms. "Why should I go when you could do with a bit of help and I have nothing else to do?"

"I said nothing of the sort, and I would not seek assistance from the likes of you if I required it."

"You're a right bastard, you know that?" She held his steely gaze as she began stirring the potion in front of her defiantly, summoning the next ingredient with her free hand.

When he made no move to stop her again, she added it in and started brewing quietly.

They worked in silence for some time, until she asked him where he kept the empty vials.

He ignored her question, and she huffed in annoyance before she began stomping around the room, searching.

She'd just pulled open a third random cupboard when she ducked suddenly, narrowly avoiding several vials that flew past her head and landed neatly beside Severus across the room, where he began calmly filling them from his cauldron.

"You are such a bloody prat," she spat as she settled beside him again, depositing her armful of vials on the tabletop.

"I would ask that you kindly refrain from insulting me in my own lab, where your presence is already most unwanted, Miss Granger," she felt the heat of his glare, and whipped her face towards him to match it.

"Don't you mean _Mrs. Snape_?" she snapped back at him.

He moved suddenly, bearing down on her as she backed up slowly, only to have her movements matched by his, step by step.

"Do not deign to delude yourself into thinking that the title that has been forced upon you will lend you some sort of sentimental meaning in my eyes," he sneered, his dark eyes hard and cold as they bored into hers. "You have been forced upon me by a law I wanted nothing to do with, and the title you now bear would never have been yours but for this twisted caricature of a union the Ministry has forced upon us. Do not dare call this anything more than what it truly is: a contract most inconvenient that I would rid myself of immediately if the opportunity were to present itself." He did not step back and instead continued to stare down at her beneath him, as if she were an insect he'd tried and failed to crush beneath his boot.

She supposed that he expected her to shrink away from his insults, running away from the dungeon in tears of horror and shame as he'd made many a student - including her - do when they'd been at Hogwarts.

Instead, she closed the small gap of space between their bodies, tilting her head back to meet his glare. "You say that, yet you had no problem _fucking_ me," she seethed, before spinning on her heel to leave the room.

She made it three steps before she was seized by an iron grip and dragged backwards until she was bent over the table, her cheek pressed against its surface. Although he'd shoved her down with unmistakable force, she noted absently that it had been gentler than he'd been their first time together. She almost scoffed at the thought of him giving her extra care while pregnant, and dismissed the idea altogether.

He was pressing against her so closely that she could feel every plane of his body against hers. She wiggled slightly, and was met with a friction against his groin that felt unexpectedly incredible. She let out an involuntary moan. It was low, but unmistakable in the silence of the room. They both froze at the sound.

"Is this what you wanted when you sought me out?" he spoke lowly into her ear. Looming over her, dangerously close.

She gasped loudly in surprise when he reached up a hand and pulled down her muggle jeans and knickers in one fell swoop, exposing her naked bottom to the chill of the room.

"Is this what you wanted?" he seethed into her ear again before bringing his open palm down on her bottom with a loud slap that echoed in the room.

She did not make a move to resist him, too frozen in shock at his actions.

"Is this what you came here hoping for?" He rained down two more hard slaps, and she gasped at the sting of his bare flesh on her own.

She choked out a muffled cry as he shoved his hand between her legs and stroked her pussy. She was shocked to realize that she was wet, _exceedingly wet_ , and that _yes_ , those squelching noises were being emitted from her body. Her _traitorous_ body. She tried to clamp her legs shut, but he only shoved them further apart as he continued to finger her.

"I asked if this was what you wanted, _Mrs. Snape_ ," he breathed carefully into her ear, before he removed his hands from her body and stepped away completely, leaving her on the precipice of orgasm. Her nether regions throbbed with need, and for a split second she yearned to reach down and finish the job.

But she would not do that, not there, where the dark haired man was waiting to pounce on the slightest whiff of her humiliation. Face flaming with anger, she tugged her clothing back into place and crossed to the door, looking back one last time to find him calmly filling vials with the deep purple potion, as if nothing has just transpired between them.

"I am not some cheap whore," she spat at him before departing in an angry huff.

 **X**

As soon as she made it to her rooms, she slammed the door closed behind her and shoved her jeans off before laying back on her bed, fingers rubbing furiously at her clit.

"Oh…" she moaned, sliding a hand up underneath her jumper and into her bra to flick at a nipple. She was close, so close…

A low chuckle sounded from across the room, and she screamed, jumping up. Her eyes flew about the room, landing on Lucius, who sat calmly in a winged armchair in the corner, as poised as ever.

She threw herself under her covers, face flaming. "What are you doing in here?!" she shouted at him once she was covered up to the neck.

He smirked at her, unmoving. She peeked back at him, heart beating wildly as she waited for his next words.

"Leave. Please," she mumbled, pulling the covers up over her head.

She heard only a low laugh in response.

"Why are you here?" she asked again as she peeked out once more.

"I came to inquire as to why you insist on making such an infernal racket in my home," He said. She blushed, recalling how hard she'd slammed the doors to her rooms.

"When I came to inquire," he drawled,"You were too busy with your _activities_ that you did not notice. I thought I'd stay to enjoy the show," he finished, smirking knowingly.

"Well, the show's finished, so if you could…" she stuck a hand out from under the sheets to wave it towards the doors.

"I'd rather not," Lucius replied.

She groaned and threw herself under the covers once more, before they were unceremoniously vanished altogether. "Lucius!" she screeched, snatching a pillow to cover her exposed lower parts. He vanished that as well.

"Accio-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Lucius waved her wand from between his fingers,

"Lucius!" She groaned again, tempted to bury her face in her hands but stuck covering her nether regions instead.

He smiled slowly, knowingly, not unlike the infamous cheshire cat of stories she'd read as a child. "I believe we have an _appointment_ today," he said.

"Tonight!" she shot back. "Tonight, not now, while I'm…" she trailed off awkwardly.

"Not now, while you're bared and ready for me?" He arched a perfectly manicured brow.

She flushed.

He stood, crossing the room over to her swiftly. "Are you certain you don't require some...assistance with your problem, Mrs. Malfoy?"

His voice was like honey on silk as he breathed into her ear, and she felt her skin tingling in anticipation at his closeness.

"As me to stop," he whispered, before reaching down to tug her hand away from her mound. He ran a finger through her bush, slowly, enticingly, not quite reaching her clit.

The sound of her heavy breaths and pounding heart filled the room, and she knew that she wouldn't deny him, couldn't deny him, not now when her body throbbed with need, and he was _so close_ to where she wanted him…

"What have you been up to, I wonder?" he spoke again, hand moving to cup her fully. His touch was too light, and she bucked her up hips in an attempt to gain more friction.

He pressed her down gently. "Not yet," he laughed a low, dark laugh. "I'm not quite convinced that you need it."

She glared at him, then moaned as he pressed hard suddenly, his palm firm against her aching clit.

"How badly do you want it, hmm?" he used two fingers to tease at her slick entrance. He ducked lower, until his hair tickled her cheek. "I can _smell_ you."

"Stop teasing me, damn you," she rasped. His thumb has begun swirling ever-so-lightly around her clit, and she was humming with need.

That infernal smirk had not yet left his face, and it only widened when he pulled his hands off of her. He slid off his robes, and soon stood in front of her in his trousers and shirt. He began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, deliberately, eyes alight with amusement as he took in her hungry look at every inch of skin that was exposed.

"Is there something you want, Mrs. Malfoy?" he said casually. His shirt hung open, revealing a well muscled chest.

"As a matter of fact, there is, Mr. Malfoy," she ground out before lunging forward to drag him down on top of her.

He was quick, too quick for her, and left her grasping at air. She scowled, jumping up off the bed and advancing on him. "You know exactly what I want," she growled. He slid away from her advance, appearing nearly effortless as her frustration grew.

He moved suddenly, and she found herself on her back on the thick carpet, with Lucius hovering over her. He parted her legs and shoved two fingers inside of her roughly, plunging them in and out in quick succession. She moaned, and he took the opportunity to shove the fingers of his other hand into her open mouth.

"Suck," he commanded, and she obliged, caught up in the throes of her arousal. He removed them as quickly as he had put them in, and lowered them until she felt them tickling her back entrance.

"Someday, I shall have you here," he said, pumping his fingers into her all the while.

And then they were spinning, and her mouth was caught open in a frozen scream before she felt herself land on something soft and pillowy. "Wha-" she looked up and blinked, finding herself looking up at a large mirror. Her eyes swept around, and she realized that he'd apparated them into a bed. His bed, by the looks of it

Lucius' body still covered hers, and she jumped as she felt his bare length rub against her slick nether lips. He's taken her momentary disorientation to unsheath himself from his trousers. He rubbed his tip against her, teasing again, and she fluttered her eyes closed.

"Lucius," she moaned.

"Yes, dear?" he said mockingly. She felt a sudden chill, and realized he'd vanished her jumper and bra, leaving her completely bare.

She opened her eyes to look up at their forms reflected back on them in the mirror. Lucius' muscled back flexed as she grinded against her. Her hair fanned out around her head and Lucius' mixed with it, a shock of white blond contrasted against brown.

"Please," she moaned again, louder this time.

"Please _what_?" he leaned forward, letting the tip of his cock slide in before pulling it out again. He started kissing and nibbling at her neck, smirking into her skin at the soft mewling sounds she made. "I promised to make you _beg_."

She knew he thought he'd won, thought that he could drag this out until he had her wailing beneath him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

She lunged forward, latching her legs around his waist before lurching them violently sideways. The result was Lucius lying beneath her, blinking in surprise as she took his moment of distraction to shove his trousers down further and impale herself on his cock.

"Try me," she smirked at him.

She arched her back and moaned loudly, rolling her hips just right so that her clit slid across him. She planted her hands on his chest, fucking herself on him with abandon.

Her writhing lasted but a few moments before he flipped her over and began slamming into her repeatedly, drawing long moans from her. She refused to concede all the power, electing to drag her fingernails along his back and suck at his neck, doing any and every thing that would be sure to leave a mark. She opened her eyes and watched their furious fucking in the mirror in satisfaction, loving every bit of tension she released as they fought for power.

Their coupling was rough and animalistic, and she knew that she would be likely be struggling to walk in the morning. She also found that she didn't care. She relished in the feeling of it, meeting him move by move as they fought for dominance.

Even though they'd been rough, she noticed that he'd taken care to protect her midriff as he fucked her through a myriad of positions. When she found them sitting upright, caught in a mock embrace as she was bouncing on his cock, she locked eyes with him, watching the man intently even as she continued to let out soft pants and moans. They didn't kiss, because this wasn't that kind of sex, but she felt something there in that moment, something intense and deep that made her eager to discover more of the enigma that was Lucius Malfoy beneath his dark, teasing exterior.


	8. Chapter 8

**Please be warned that the first scene of this chapter deals with some heavy subjects surrounding pregnancy, including things like miscarriage, etc. If this is troubling for you to read, you may want to skip to the first jump. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHT**

The Manor's halls were dark as she made her way back from the kitchens and toward her rooms, the soft pad of her slippers on the polished floors the only noise around her. She'd decided to fetch a glass of water from the kitchens herself, thoroughly put out by the idea of Pinky's doting on her at all hours. She'd given the rest of the elves quite a fright, and they'd taken to clutching her ankles and kissing her feet as they begged her forgiveness for whatever they could have done to make the _Lady of the Manor_ come down the the _kitchens_. It had taken a lot of insistence to convince them that she simply thought it wrong to summon a servant for simple things while her pregnancy causing her magic to backfire in strange ways. She'd casted _auguamenti_ three times that night only to have her glass fill with a substance that looked suspiciously like wine before she'd given up and decided to make her way to the kitchens.

The elves had refused to send her back up with nothing less than a jug of it, balanced upon a tray laden with snacks that floated quietly behind her as she made her way through the Manor's dark halls. It was late, very late, and Hermione was surprised to see low candlelight drifting out of a large sitting room as she passed one of the large sitting rooms on the main floor.

She moved closer towards the source of light, peeking in warily in case she found Narcissa inside. To her surprise, Kingsley sat in a large armchair, nursing a glass of dark liquor.

"Kingsley?" she called out, and the dark man raised his head at the noise, giving her a small smile.

"Good night, Hermione," he said quietly.

She stepped in closer, eyes taking in the Minister's robes that he still wore. "Have you only just gotten in?" she asked, surprised. She padded over to the seat nearest him, and the tray lowered to a table beside her.

"Unfortunately, yes. There's been quite a bit of work to be done of late."

"Oh," she said quietly. "I guess I'd thought that things would have slowed down for the entire Ministry with… everything…" she thought of Harry and the Auror department's workload, and how Arthur had been home quite early most days as well.

"Ah, if only," Kingsley let out a small rumbling, chuckle.

"How have things been, since the law and all?" she asked.

Kingsley hesitated for a moment. "Different," he answered finally. "Very different."

His voice sounded solemn, and she thought about how things must be at the Ministry, now that the Marriage Law had thrown them into a new level of chaos. Although the war was over, a new one had sprung up between their government and citizens as they were forced to comply or have their magic bound and be thrown in Azkaban. Desperate times had called for equally desperate measures, and so Hermione had complied rather easily after having been in the center of discovering the solution to their population problem.

But for others… for others it had come down as hard as a slap in the face, shattering lives yet again as those who'd survived attempted to recover from the plague. She imagined they'd fought hard against it with all their might, and the Ministry had had to push back equally as hard. Kingsley was at the forefront of it all, and now that she was looking at him, _really_ looking at him, she could see the toll that the events of the past two years had had on him. His handsome face was worn with lines of stress, his features drawn out with exhaustion.

She reached over and folded a hand over his. He moved his hand to hold hers gently, but did not speak. He continued sipping his drink, his eyes distant as he watched the flicker of the sole candlelight in the room.

"There's so much…" he started. "So much that we did not know."

She looked up at him, puzzled. "So much about what, Kingsley?"

The man look a long sip of his drink before answering. His eyes slipped down to her midriff and then away from her before he answered. "I…"

"You can talk to me," she urged. He was silent again for a long while, still staring off with a distant look in his eyes.

"Dolores Umbridge is dead," he said finally.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Dead?" she repeated.

Kingsley nodded mutely. "They found her this morning."

"How did she…?"

"There doesn't appear to have been any foul play," Kingsley answered. "She just...passed."

"Oh," Hermione said, still reeling at the news. She'd spared no friendly feelings for the cruel woman over the years, but her sudden death still came as a shock. "What about...her…" she was due to attend the woman's wedding in the morning. She wondered about George and the others and whether they'd felt any loss, or were simply basking in relief at the news.

"They'll be...redistributed, into other families," Kingsley answered.

She looked up at him. "Could that... include ours?" She imagined adding another husband to the mix, and her head reeled.

Kingsley finally looked at her, only for a moment, before looking away. "Possibly."

She sat quietly for a few long moments, taking in his revelation. She looked over at Kingsley's profile, realizing that none of the tension had left his face even after his confession. "Umbridge...that's not what's truly bothering you, is it?" she asked.

Kingsley was quiet again.

"You can tell me," she whispered. "I am your wife, after all."

He laughed humorlessly. "My wife…" he said sadly. "My wife."

"There's so much we do not know…" she repeated his earlier words. "So much we do not know about what, Kingsley?" Her words were quiet, but tinged with an undercurrent of urgency as she realized that he was hiding something serious.

"About this," he answered finally. "About all of this."

"Kingsley, please," she lifted his hand in hers. "Please tell me what's going on, I beg you."

The older man sighed, running a hand across the cropped hair on his head. "Do you remember when the Wizengamot asked you and Severus to turn over the findings you had to them, and sealed it from us?"

She nodded. At the time, she'd thought it surprising that they'd managed to figure out the inner workings of the ancient bonding spells and enchantments they'd come across, especially considering that their search for more information on them had been fruitless, beyond a few short entries in a wizard's personal journals.

"It wasn't that what you found was all there was on the subject, and they reverse engineered it from there…" he continued, his voice somber. "They found more, so much more, but they kept much it secret, even from me, knowing that I might have objected more. They…"

She waited patiently for him to continue, although her body burned with the need to know just what had been concealed from them.

"They might have died, all of them, if they'd been bonded." Kingsley's voice was quiet, resigned.

"All of who-" Hermione's eyes bugged out as she realized what he'd just implied. "Umbridge's matches? _All_ of them?"

Kingsley nodded.

"So if one of us…"

The tall man shook his head. "Only if it were the wife, and only right at the beginning, we think. The magic we're working with is extremely volatile, and the most minute of changes could be catastrophic."

"You _think_?" She felt panic rising within her at his implication.

"What we know for certain is that its volatility seems to settle down after about week or so." she nodded mutely, recalling how she had no longer required constant doses of Snape's calming draught to stop her from jumping her husbands after the first few days. "But if you had died early on…"

Hermione's skin crawled at his revelation. "Why risk it? They could have matched us with wizards, then told us to breed...we might have been able to find a way to repopulate ourselves without these marriages-"

Kingsley shook his head sharply. "No, we would not have been able to. What they found after ordering you and Severus to stop was...plentiful. In the past… they'd tried every possible method to repopulate, and they discovered, through much trial and error, that the only way to do it successfully was to completely bind a witch's core to an equally compatible wizard. It wasn't enough to find complimentary magical cores and ask them to reproduce...magic is a fickle thing, and without a complete fusion of magical cores, the resulting pregnancies were...flawed."

Her mouth felt dry. "Flawed?" she said quietly. "Flawed, as in squibs, or _flawed_ , as in…"

"Miscarriages...deformed children...stillborns…" he said somberly.

Her hand flew to where her baby grew, and she felt as though she was going to be sick. She thought of all the horrors those innocent witches in the past that had suffered through as they experimented on them like cattle. "Gods…" she whispered.

Kingsley said nothing, and only bowed his head sadly.

She forced herself to continue, needing answers. "But if… if breeding healthy children was the requirement, why split up couples who already had children? Couldn't they have just forced them to have more?" She thought of the Weasleys and their family that had been shattered by the plague, and then the law.

Kingsley shook his head again. "Those who'd been married previously weren't all necessarily perfectly compatible, and some married persons' cores were better suited to other witches. During the time we spent devising the law, we realized that we could waste no time on chance. Shortened pregnancies are incredibly delicate, and our findings showed that they work best when combined with a bonding spell such as this. Magical pregnancy is complicated, even without bonding spells used to complicate matters. Many of the couples who were married were pureblooded couples, whose fertility rates have been low quite some time now. Now that we know what we know, it may be possible that their levels of inbreeding in the past caused too many couples with similar magic cores to attempt to conceive, and thus fail. Even couples as fortunate as the Weasleys-" she winced at the mention of them "-were seemingly operating on pure luck. Seven magical children born to a pureblooded couple is nearly unheard of, and we need more, many more for the law to be successful. We couldn't afford to leave anything to chance."

"It won't be acceptable for me to bear just one child per husband, will it?" she questioned softly. Eight children was already so many to consider, even though she'd known she'd need to bear more than that. When the law had first been announced, she had held out vague hope somewhere deep within her that once she'd borne the required amount of children, she would be released from her duties. She'd seen the numbers, though, many times, and knew it wouldn't work.

Kingsley shook his head sadly. "As many...as many as possible are expected of all women. As you already know, the amount of men that survived the plague outnumber the women by many. Over the years, the Wizengamot plans to put much more emphasis on the words "at least one"."

"I see," she nodded mutely. She felt an absent tear roll down her face as she yet again faced the fact that her duties in this stretched so much further beyond her and her wants. They sat in silence once more as she absorbed the information she'd just been given.

"Why didn't they tell us?" she asked quietly. "About all of it?"

Kingsley sighed. "For the same reason we couldn't tell you many things, during the war." She wondered what secrets they'd kept from the Boy-Who-Lived over these past few years, what sacrifices they'd made while Harry, Ron, and Hermione lived on in ignorance. "We've all been balanced on a precipice of good versus evil, dark versus light...wants versus necessities." He looked over at her. "Would it have made a difference if you had known all of it?"

She hesitated. "I mean, yes, I would have…" _I would have fought back harder,_ she thought sadly.

Kingsley nodded as if he'd read her mind. "The Wizengamot deemed it necessary to share only what was required by the public. This is a desperate measure that has already been met with much resistance. If all had been revealed, we may have had a revolt on our hands..."

"...And we would have died out anyway," she finished for him.

He didn't respond, and instead kept nursing his glass of liquor.

 **X**

Hermione exhaled deeply, trying to ignore the blast of chilly air from the healer's wand on her abdomen as he examined her. She let out an involuntary shiver anyway, and Neville squeezed her hand reassuringly.

All eyes in the room were on the nearly imperceptible bump on her stomach that the older wizard was slowly circling his wand over, his face devoid of emotion. This silence continued for several long minutes as he poked and prodded at her stomach, until she felt as though she would combust. The old wizard moved achingly slowly, his silence filling the room with an uncomfortable tension. Draco scoffed loudly from across the room, glaring at the old man's glacial pace.

"Erm," she cleared her throat. "Is there anything we should be… concerned about?"

The man looked up at her slowly, then shook his head minutely. "All's well," he said.

Hermione did not recognize the man, but Healer Browne had reassured her on her way in that he was one of the best childcare healers they had on staff.

"Is there any other...information you can give us about the, uh, baby?" Neville asked.

The man looked up again, blinking slowly before answering. "Not at the moment," he said.

She heard Draco mumble something decidedly rude under his breath, but she didn't bother correcting him as she itched with frustration herself. "Can we hear the heartbeat, or something, at least?" she tried instead.

The old wizard blinked again. "If you wish." He swirled his wand and a light fluttering noise filled the room.

She looked up at Neville and caught his eyes shining with tears. "You alright?" she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Draco scoffed at Neville's reaction, and she shot him a quick glare.

"I…" he looked down at her, and hastily wiped away a tear. "It could be my baby in there. Our baby," he finished, his voice tinged with awe.

The healer cut off the noise and took his leave, breezing through the door before she could utter another word. "Wait-!" she called, frustrated.

"What is it?" Draco asked, his glare at Neville dropping and instantly replaced with concern as he crossed over to her. "Are you in pain?"

"No, no, I…" she blushed as her husbands fawned over her. "I...I wanted to know if I could find out who the father is," she admitted sheepishly.

The two men shifted uncomfortably before looking up an exchanging twin glares.

"Unfortunately not," Healer Browne said as she entered the room. "You'll have to find out after she gives birth."

"So the three-" Neville started.

"Four," Hermione interrupted with a blush, avoiding their eyes.

"-four," Draco continued, "Of us need to wait until we meet him?"

"Wait, how do you know it's a boy?"

"I just do, Granger," Draco said confidently.

"Longbottom," Neville pouted quietly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "When is she due?"

"In about two and a half months, per our calculations, give or take a week," Healer Browne said.

Hermione's heart pounded. In two and a half months, she would become a mother. She would be responsible for an innocent life when she was already so young herself…

"Breathe," Draco squeezed her hand, sensing her growing panic. "We'll be alright," he said. "Just breathe."

Neville ran a hand over her clammy skin with concern, and Healer Browne frowned slightly.

"How have you been feeling overall?"

"Exhausted. And sick," she made a face. "Very sick. It seems to have slowed down over the past few days though," she added.

"Keep getting plenty of rest, and come see us if you feel ill longer than a few hours at a time," Healer Browne recited, taking notes diligently. "And your magic?"

"It's been..." she hesitated.

"Wild," Draco muttered, and Neville snorted.

"I'm getting it under control!" She huffed.

"Sure, if setting the curtains on fire while trying to summon a plate of eggs can be considered 'under control'," he retorted.

Healer Browne frowned. "Keep us posted on your progress. You are still the only pregnant woman so far, so there are many that are very interested in your progress. Is there anything else you need?"

Hermione started to shake her head 'no' when Draco cut in. "Yes. Would you please rid us of that useless old man?"

"Draco!" Hermione chastised.

Healer Browne only laughed. "I suppose I can step in for him," she said, eyes twinkling. "Although, I must admit that she's already in good hands." She looked between her husbands meaningfully.

"The best," Draco agreed, and Neville nodded.

 **X**

"Alohomora!" Hermione shouted, smiling satisfactorily to herself when the door flew open on her first attempt despite her unreliable magic.

Harry stood in the middle of his room, mouth hanging open in shock at her sudden entrance. He wore only a towel slung low on his hips, and was still dripping wet from his shower. His face hardened after he got over his initial shock. "Get ou-"

"No!" she shouted, stalking over to him.

His eyes widened slightly at her tone. She knew he'd likely expected her to keep tiptoeing around him as she had for days after their argument, but she was through.

"You listen to me, Harry James Potter," she seethed.

"Why should I? It's all lies anyway," he shot back.

"I never lied to you!" she shouted. "I never lied to you, not once."

"Oh really?" he scoffed. "So dating my sworn enemy who then became a Death Eater behind my back was just an accident, then?"

"It was not an accident," she said. "It was a choice that I had to make because of you!"

"Because of me? Because of _me_? You dare turn thi-"

"YES! Yes, Harry, because of you! Because of who _you_ are!" she was shaking with anger. "I had to make a choice, because you were my best friend and I loved you, but I loved him too. So I had to choose, because you would _never_ have let me have both."

"You don't know-"

"Yes I do!" she shouted. "You hated him, you hated him with everything you had! Yes he could be spiteful, and unnecessarily cruel at times, but he is also loyal, fiercely loyal, and he loved me with everything he had."

Harry glared, but said nothing.

"I loved him, but would I have ever been able to convince you of that? You challenged your hate into an obsessive suspicion until it practically consumed you. How could I have told you then? How could I have possibly told you, when I knew you would have cut me out of your life completely, forever?"

"But I was right," Harry reminded her, his voice hard.

Hermione swallowed. "Yes, you were. And he broke my heart, in the end, but now we're here, and I need you to accept that. I need you to accept that because we've been thrust into this new reality and you're my one constant. You've always been my constant, and now you've dropped me because of something that happened so long ago that hardly matters now," she said. "Where would we be now, if I'd told you then?"

Harry was silent for a long beat before answering. "It still doesn't change the fact-"

"Yes it does! This. Changes. _Everything_. I'm _pregnant_ , Harry," she said. She opened her mouth to speak again, but instead burst into uncontrollable tears. She sobbed violently into her hands as she dissolved under the stress of it all.

She felt a tentative hand on her shoulder and she looked up to see Harry, looking terrified as he tried to comfort her. She registered the sting in her hand before she realized that she'd slapped him.

The bespectacled boy stood in shocked silence, a red handprint blossoming on his cheek.

"You have no right," she seethed, glaring at him through her tears. "You have no right to even _think_ of touching me, after what you've must me through this past week, you bastard."

She watched as shame began to slowly fill his features.

"I am pregnant," she said again. "I am pregnant, and there is a high chance it is yours, and you're supposed to be my best friend, so I need you to _get it together_. Now." And with that, she spun on her heel and left, slamming the door in her wake.

* * *

 **Of course I couldn't stray too far from the roots of the Hermione we all know and love! As usual, every review is cherished. You can follow me on tumblr as blankfishxx and add me on Facebook as Blank Fish for intermittent updates on new chapters.**


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

Hermione was heading downstairs for dinner when she tripped over her slipper and suddenly found herself pitching forward dangerously on the grand staircase. She let out a yelp before there was a sudden pressure on her abdomen and she was dragged backwards. She looked down to see Lucius' elegant walking stick caught across her abdomen, and while her back was pressed firmly against his chest.

"It would do you well," he enunciated slowly. "To refrain from pitching yourself down the steps while you may be carrying my unborn grandchild." He released her and muttered a spell that had her rising lightly into the air.

"Lucius!" she yelped. "Put me down!"

He ignored her and began moving them down the staircase. "This appears to be a necessary precaution," he said simply, moving down the stairs in his typically elegant fashion, not a hair out a place.

She huffed, but made no move to cancel the spell, knowing very well how easily it could backfire on her. She settled for crossing her arms, annoyed at her treatment. They had barely spoken since they'd slept together, and she had no idea where they stood. His teasing had all but stopped, but she oftentimes found him giving her long, appraising looks before melting back into his normally cold and formal self.

He settled her down gently at the foot of the steps before striding off, leaving her behind without a second thought. She scoffed. So much for for gentlemanly behavior.

 **X**

The tone at dinner was quiet, and Hermione ate her meal quietly while she studiously avoided Harry's pleading gaze. Although she'd asked him to get over his own anger, she hadn't quite yet quelled hers. She felt childish, as childish as she had accused him of being, but her emotions had been running high throughout her pregnancy and she couldn't help the anger she still felt towards him.

"There is something I must inform you all of," Kingsley said after dessert had appeared before them. This was the first time he'd spoken to them like this, and every eye in the room was on him.

Hermione toyed with her torte nervously, dreading the official announcement of Umbridge's death and its implications.

"As you all may know," Kingsley started. "The wedding of the Umbridge family was abruptly cancelled this past weekend. At the time, the Ministry put out an announcement citing complications that were causing the delay. As some of you may already suspect, the complications that could require the cancellation of a Ministry-mandated wedding were quite serious." He paused, and looked around the room before continuing.

"Dolores Umbridge is dead," he said finally.

Silence.

"Oh," Neville finally spoke. "How did she…?"

"We don't suspect foul play. It seems that she passed quietly in her sleep, of natural causes."

It was quiet for another moment before Draco spoke. "Well, I say good riddance then," he said, returning to his food.

Lucius glared at his son's nonchalance, but said nothing.

"What does this mean for George, then?" Arthur asked.

"And the others?" Neville added.

Kingsley sighed before speaking again. "That is what I wished to speak of with you all about. Her intended men are due to be...redistributed... into other families."

Silence, again.

"You don't mean-?" Harry sputtered.

Kingsley nodded. "There have only been a few weddings thus far, but there is still a chance that Hermione will need to bind herself to another man."

"But the magic, does it even allow for such things?" Sirius looked her her with concern. "This is too much, especially now that she's pregnant."

Hermione shot him a small, grateful smile, even as she felt her heart clenching with worry.

Draco reached over from beside her and squeezed her thigh in reassurance. "It'll be alright," he whispered, kissing her temple.

She caught Harry's scowl from across the table, but knew he wouldn't dare say anything.

"We will find out later this evening if we are to take in another family member-" Kingsley was interrupted as a house elf popped in and handed Arthur a letter.

Arthur held up the letter, which was titled "Granger Family" in the same curling script that the envelope that had changed her life only a couple of weeks prior had had.

"Is that it?" Harry asked nervously.

"Most likely," Kingsley said sadly.

"Just open it," Hermione spoke, her voice small.

Arthur nodded and tore open the letter, scanning its contents briefly. Hermione waited with bated breath, leg bouncing nervously as she waited for him to speak.

"Well?" Lucius snapped.

Arthur took a moment to frown in his direction before smiling up at Hermione. "We've been exempt," he said.

"Oh thank god," she breathed. As if her body sensed that she was now free of the stress that had been consuming her for the past few minutes, she felt a slow wave of the nausea that had kept her bedridden for the past two days rising within her yet again. "Excuse me!" she rushed out before tearing out of the room and towards the nearest loo.

 **X**

Hermione made her way through the dungeon's corridors, her slippers moving decidedly more quietly than her shoes had the last time she'd been there. As a result, Snape raised a surprised eyebrow when she stepped into his lab.

She met his gaze steadily as she spoke. "I refuse to laze around in this home, unable to do a thing while I am pregnant. When I am well, I will come here and brew with you. You will not curse me, or disrespect me in _any_ way because I am only here to help. And-" she looked pointedly at the slight bulge of her stomach that was visible through her shirt "-I must remind you that this has been quite a delicate pregnancy. You will not do a thing to cause me even an ounce of stress when I do, because it could harm the baby, which, if I may remind you, could be yours."

He said nothing, only glaring at her for a few long moments as she glared back defiantly.

"Do try not to retch into anything," he clipped before turning back to the cauldron in front of him.

Satisfied, she picked up a cauldron and joined him.

 **X**

After working in silence with Snape for a few hours, Hermione made her way back upstairs, and found that she was winded by the time she reached the top of the steps. She heard soft voices floating towards her from the nearest sitting room that she moved towards, having decided to rest before she tried to venture up the stairs.

She was surprised to see Arthur inside, speaking to Ron with in a soft, soothing voice. He was rubbing his son's shoulder softly as he spoke. She turned to leave, loathe to interrupt such a clearly personal moment.

Before she could leave, however, Arthur looked up at her. "Hermione," he said, his voice ever welcoming and kind.

"Hello, Arthur," she said. "Hi, Ron," she added. Ron turned to look at her, and she felt her heart pang as she took in his familiar blue eyes.

"I'll just-" she turned again to exit.

"Wait, 'Mione," Ron said. It had always felt different when Ron called her the nickname he and Harry shared, and now was no exception.

"Can we, uh, talk, for a moment?" he shifted awkwardly.

Hermione looked at Arthur, and then at Ron. She silently breathed a sigh of relief when Arthur nodded and quickly took his leave. She wasn't certain she could have any conversation with her ex with _any_ of her husbands present, let alone Arthur.

They settled onto the nearest settee, and and awkward silence stretched between them.

"I, uh," Ron started, then stopped. "Congratulations," he said when he started again, eyeing the bump of her stomach that her form fitting shirt displayed.

"Thank you," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"Do you...know, I mean...whose-who the father is?" he asked carefully.

"Not yet," she answered. "It's not...we haven't, I mean…" she flicked her eyes over to where Arthur had disappeared, then met his eyes, knowing he'd see the truth displayed there. She blushed as he cringed slightly, wondering why she'd spoken at all.

"It's alright, 'Mione," he answered, looking away from her again. "I know that eventually, you'll have to… and… I just wanted you to know that I don't blame you for this, any of this."

Hermione nodded, but did not speak. She reached over and squeezed his hand gratefully, and he held onto hers.

For a few moments they sat in comfortable silence, just Ron and Hermione once again, almost like the days before the war had thrown their lives into tumultuous chaos.

"Who are you...bonding with?" she asked.

"Parvati," he said, smiling slightly. "'S not so bad, huh?"

Hermione smiled. "No, not so bad at all," she agreed.

"Mother's marrying Dean," he said suddenly. "And McLaggen. And Zabini."

Hermione blinked before she burst into laughter. "Oh my god," she wheezed, feeling tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes as she chortled. Ron joined her, laughing heartily.

"How will she manage…?" Hermione said as their laughter began dying down, before giggling again at the idea of spectacle the woman's wedding would be.

"She's a strong woman, that one," Ron said proudly. "It's _them_ I'm worried for."

Hermione giggled again.

Ron looked down at their joined hands, before looking back up at her. "Harry told me about Malfoy," he said quietly.

She sobered instantly, and she looked up at him guiltily. "Ron, I-"

"I'm not angry," he said, smiling softly at her. "I'm relieved, actually."

Hermione stared at him, puzzled.

"During our sixth year at Hogwarts, you always seemed so distant. Harry was too caught up in...everything, to notice, but I did. You always had this strange ook in your eyes, and even when you were present, you weren't, at the same time," he explained.

Hermione didn't know what to say.

"Was it hard?" Ron whispered. "Loving us, and loving him at the same time?" his voice held no contempt or judgment, unlike Harry's had.

"It was...so hard, Ron," she said finally, after a long silence. Her heart arched as she remembered all the hiding, all the lying. "So very hard," her voice was nearly a whisper.

He pulled her to him until her head rested on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, 'Mione," he soothed.

"I'd thought I'd mucked up badly," he started again after a while. "I'd thought that after pursuing you for so long, and you'd finally given in, that you'd finally wanted me as much as I'd wanted you. Then I thought that I just wasn't doing enough to be there for you, to show you how much I loved you. When you broke up with me, I felt so bad about everything, like I hadn't been trying enough to be there for you after Vol-" he struggled with the word as many did, even though he was long dead "- _he_ did to all of us."

"Oh, Ron…" she said sadly. "It was never that. I didn't mean to make you feel…"

"I know now," he continued, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "That it just wasn't my time. He still had your heart then, even though he'd broken it. I...I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for you during all of that, I can't imagine how difficult it must have been, enduring on your own…"

She cupped his cheek. "I have never, and will never blame you," she said, looking intently into his eyes. "I'm sorry that it wasn't our time, that you and I couldn't be all you'd hoped we'd be."

"I'll always love you, 'Mione," he reminded her. "Even if it's not...like that, anymore. You're my best friend."

"And you're mine," she smiled, kissing his cheek softly before leaning her head into his shoulder.

And that was how Draco found them, cuddled on the couch with intertwined fingers.

The blond man crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow at her before turning to glare at Ron. "Weasel," he spat.

Hermione moved to sit up, but Ron held her for a moment longer before releasing her slowly, defiant as he stared Draco down. "I'll see you, "Mione," he said finally, planting a chaste kiss to her forehead before exiting through the room's floo.

She rolled her eyes at Draco's expression. "You already know that there's nothing between us anymore. And besides, it's not like I can cheat, regardless of if there was." She shuddered as she recalled what she'd read about some of nasty outcomes defying bonding magic had caused others in the past.

"Doesn't mean I have to enjoy seeing you with him," he scowled, crossing the room and rubbing a possessive hand over her belly.

"You're ridiculous," she laughed, smacking him lightly.

He grabbed the hand she'd smacked him with a kissed it softly. "I'd like to take you on a date," he said.

Hermione cringed slightly at the thought. It was difficult enough going to her appointments at St. Mungo's as reporters had taken to lurking in the lobby in hopes of catching a glimpse of her. They'd slowed their attempts after a few had been badly hexed by Draco, but she had yet to fully venture out in public since the Ministry had announced her pregnancy.

Draco laughed at her expression. "In Muggle London, if that's alright with you," he smiled down at her.

She sighed appreciatively. "That sounds lovely."

 **X**

She stood in her closet, dressed only a silky robe and one of the expensive sets of underwear that she'd been generously gifted by the Lord of the Manor.

She was perusing the rows of muggle outfit options she had available when she felt a pair of hands snake around her waist. She screeched and turned to find Draco's grey eyes twinkling down at her.

She smacked his chest. "Draco! Don't sneak up on me like that!" He laughed again in response.

"You called?" he said. She'd nearly forgotten that she'd asked Pinky to fetch him, as she hadn't the slightest clue how to dress for the occasion.

She sighed, gesturing at her half dressed state.

His eyes swept over her body appreciatively. "You're so beautiful," he smiled, looking down at her robe and catching a glimpse of the lacy blue bra she wore underneath. "That set is one of my favorites."

Her mouth dropped open and she sputtered for a moment. "You had a part in this?" she waved a hand around the extravagant closet.

"Of course, Ismerlda highly values my approval," he grinned down at her wickedly. "Do you like what I picked out?"

"This is ostentatious," Hermione said, looking around again.

"Only the best for the Lady of the Manor," he said simply. He perused the clothing options in front of her before picking out a short, glittering dress. "This one will be perfect for tonight."

Hermione eyed the flimsy scrap of material warily before taking it from him. He turned around, ever the gentleman.

"You can watch, Draco," she giggled.

Unlike Neville, Draco did not hesitate to turn around at the chance to spectate.

She flushed as he took her her body, smiling appreciatively at the way the short dress clung to her curves. He leaned down to kiss her bump. She ran her hands in his hair lovingly as he did so, kissing him softly when he straightened again. He pulled back after he deepened the kiss for a moment, then summoned a pair of sleek black stilettos, charming them for comfort before helping her into them.

They were soon making their way down the grand staircase, Draco's hand firmly planted on her back although he'd long since charmed her shoes to ensure she wouldn't trip over them.

Harry crossed through the entrance hall as they made their way down the final steps. His emerald eyes widened at the sight of her. "Hermione," he started. "You look…breathtaking."

She kept her face blank, ignoring the lingering coil of anger in her stomach that wanted to lash out at him yet again. Her scathing looks had been enough to shame the boy into submission, and he'd spent days trying to speak to her. The pain of his anger was still fresh, and she wasn't yet ready to forgive him. "Thank you," she answered stiffly before turning to Draco.

"Shall we?" she said to Draco, and they disapparated.

* * *

A quieter chapter, but still an update nonetheless! Reviews make me so happy, and any constructive criticism is always welcome. You can find me on tumblr as blankfishxx and Facebook as Blank Fish for updates.


	10. Chapter 10

**Another quick update, because why not! I've written through 12 now, but I'm still not happy with how a scene in 11 has turned out so far, so I might sit on it for a while longer while I figure out how to make it better. For now, here's another short chapter! Also, it's been 8 days since I first posted, and the feedback has been so amazing so far! 10 chapters in 8 days would have seemed like a doozy to me before I first posted, but it's been so easy to keep up the momentum when I keep hearing such great things from you all.**

 **Also, I wanted to assure you all that this fic will be finished! I've gotten comments on here and ao3 alike of people begging me not to abandon, so do not worry! Ten Too Many's incompleteness killed me, so in taking on the trope I've committed myself to finishing this. I've hit a small snag in my plot outline for chapter 17, so updates might be slower by the time I hit that one, but I've been mulling it over and I hope to get it ironed out soon. I'd estimated earlier that the fic would be more than 25 and less than 40 chapters, and I'll stick with that for now. I'm hoping for around 32, but we'll see how it works out. I don't want it to end to be honest, because I just love writing it! (:**

 **As always, you can find me on tumblr as blankfishxx and Facebook as Blank Fish.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TEN**

When they stepped out of the alley they'd apparated to, Hermione's breath caught as she realized where they were. They stood outside a small, yet upscale Italian restaurant.

"Draco…" she said softly.

"Come," he replied, lacing his fingers through hers and pulling her inside.

"You remember," Draco spoke as they sat down at the same cozy table by the window they'd sat at years prior.

"You thought I would forget?" she said. It had been the summer after fifth year, and he'd begged her to come see him after they'd had an especially nasty breakup. He'd brought her there, and they'd gotten back together for the final time, before he'd broken up with her again nearly a year later. It was also the first time he'd told her he loved her, and she'd told him the same.

He reached across the table to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "I always missed doing that," he smiled sadly.

She kissed his thumb gently as he ran it over her lower lip. "I missed this, too," he said softly.

"I missed you," she replied quietly, her eyes never leaving his.

A waiter appeared with two steaming plates of pasta, and she was delighted to see her favorite dish placed down in front of her. "You haven't forgotten a thing," she remarked.

"Never," he smiled, spearing a bit of his ravioli before feeding it to her. "Not even this," he laughed as she accepted it happily.

They ate their meal in comfortable silence, and before long, they were walking through the streets, hand in hand once again.

It was a warm summer night, and the streets were filled with young, happy looking couples that wandered the streets. Her dress glimmered softly under the dim streetlights, accenting her baby bump. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and pulling her close. She sighed happily in his touch, taking in the sights of a quiet, peaceful, muggle London that she hadn't appreciated in a long time.

"There wasn't a moment that I stopped loving you," he mused as they crossed through a small alleyway, lit only by the sporadic lights from apartments above. "I tried. So hard." He made a face, and she couldn't help a small laugh. His blond hair glowed under the moonlight, and for that moment she yearned to meet their children, hoping they would all have his silvery blond locks.

"But none of them… none of them ever held a candle to you," he said, stopping them so he could cup her cheek and kiss her gently. He pulled back and touched her bump. "Sorry will never be enough to atone for what I did, but I want you to know that I mean it in every gesture, regardless."

She nodded, eyes shining at his confession.

"I promise to love you until my dying day," he said. "You, my children, our children, your children. Always. I might not always say it," he looked down at her meaningfully. "But I will always feel it, always mean it. I love you, Hermione Malfoy. With everything I have."

"I-" She felt overwhelmed by his confession and she hesitated, her voice stuck over all the words she wanted to say.

He shushed her quietly. "You don't have to say it back yet," he promised her. "You've said it before, and I know that someday you'll be able to say it again. When you're ready, I'll be here waiting."

"Thank you," she said softly instead, kissing him again. "Let's go home," she said quietly, waiting for him to nod before she wrapped her arms around him tightly and apparated them to her room.

He looked around, puzzled, then down at her. "It's not my night-"

"Shh," she said, pulling him into a kiss. "It can be." Her words were truthful - without Harry, Arthur, or Snape in the equation, she had the time.

They made love slowly that night, exploring each others bodies the way they would have if their first time had been under different circumstances. He whispered words of love and adoration into her skin and she kissed him back, hoping she'd translated everything she felt through her touches.

 **X**

The late afternoon sun was shining through her room's sprawling window when Hermione decided to make her way to Sirius' rooms after failing to get a response to the note she'd sent him. She knocked gently, waiting for a response, frowning when she heard nothing.

Puzzled, she cast a tempus charm, frowned again, then raised her hand and knocked once more.

This time, she heard a noise from within, and slowly pushed open the door. His sitting room was empty, but the door to his bedroom was slightly ajar. She moved to his bedroom door to knock again, then started as she heard a grunt from within.

"Sirius?" she called out.

There was no answer at first, but she heard another grunt and a curse before the man said: "Hermione?"

"Are you alright?" she asked. "Can I come in?"

"Er" - she heard more shuffling - "Just a minute!" Sirius said.

She waited until he called for her to come in again, pulling the door closed behind her. He was standing near his bed, looking at her with a strange look on his face.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, crossing over to him.

"No, no, I'm fine," he answered. His tone was strange, but she couldn't put her finger on why it sounded so.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me, Sirius," she said seriously, eyes sweeping over him in concern.

"I'm fine, I promise," he said. "Why are you here? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing's wrong," she assured him. "I sent you a note, earlier, to tell you that I've cancelled my appointment for today."

He'd been supposed to accompany her to an appointment half her husbands had insisted she made after the Malfoys' private healer had recommended she visit St. Mungo's by today if her nausea hadn't abated. However, she'd woken up feeling fresh, energized, and thankfully nausea-free after another tumultuous few days. After a nausea-free morning spent brewing with Snape, she'd felt confident that she could cancel it without issue.

"Oh," Sirius said, glancing over to his desk where she'd sent the note to. The man was bouncing a foot nervously, eyes darting around the room. "I'm sorry, the day just...got away with me, love."

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked him again, looking at him suspiciously. "Do...do you have someone in here?" she asked, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sor-"

"Hermione," Sirius barked out a nervous laugh. "It's just us, love, I promise," he looked at her curiously. "Besides, I'm bound to you, remember? I would find myself gravely injured if I even _tried_ to have any 'visitors'."

Hermione blamed her pregnancy for the oversight. "Oh, right," she said. She continued to study him, trying to pick out the unnamed emotion she saw on his face.

"I'm fine, I promise," he said again.

"There's something off about you…" she mused, stepping closer.

And then she caught it. Sirius blushed slightly, and looked away from her. The emotion she'd been unable to place was embarrassment, she realized. It wouldn't have been out of the ordinary, except that if there was one thing Sirius _never_ was, it was embarrassed, no matter the situation.

She stepped closer yet, taking in his appearance. Had she not known him well, he would not have appeared out of the ordinary in the slightest. However, because she did, she took in how he was dressed, robes and all, when she knew for a fact that he rarely wore even a shirt around the house, let alone went around fully dressed.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Nowhere," he replied. He was shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot, and she tried to read his expression even as he turned away from her.

Oh.

 _Oh._

It hit her then, why he was acting so. "Sirius," she started again, this time with a smirk in her voice. "What exactly were you doing?"

"Nothing," he answered, stepping back as she moved closer to him.

"Really?" she asked innocently, running her hands over his chest. "Are you sure that you werent, I don't know-"

"I wasn't-"

"-wanking?"

He froze, and she leaned up onto the tips of her toes until she could whisper in his ear. "I want to see," she breathed.

He blinked, then looked down at her as his face melted into the smirk she knew all too well. She slid his robes off his shoulders and looked down to see a telltale tenting of his trousers.

She backed up until she sat comfortably on the bed, leaning back on her elbows as she watched him. They'd yet to sleep together since he'd elected to skip his night the week she'd been in the hospital, then thrice more when she'd been ill. She wanted to draw this out for him after making him wait this long.

He divested himself of his shirt with rapid speed, slowing once he'd unbuttoned his trousers. She watched him, biting her lip as he undid the zipper on his trousers. He was bare beneath his trousers, and every bit of his zipper that he inched down revealed more of his thick, dark pubic hair. When the zip was all the way down, an inch of his cock showed at the top. She licked her lips.

"See something you like?" Sirius spoke lowly, knowingly. She blushed, then watched carefully as he pulled down his trousers until his length bobbed free.

It was long and slightly tan like his skin, and she had no doubt that he had no qualms laying out on Grimmauld's rooftop in the nude on sunny days. It curved slightly to the left, and she saw that it was tinged red at the head as he pumped himself once, pulling back his foreskin to expose it. He pumped it again, and she licked her lips again as she saw a drop of precome leak out of the tip.

He smirked, then began slowly pumping himself rhymically. "Strip," he ordered quietly, and she immediately lifted her dress over her head and tossed it aside. She was clad in a matching white set of underwear, one of the simpler sets that she owned but still enticing enough that she smiled satisfactorily as he cursed upon seeing what she wore beneath her dress.

"Fuck, Hermione," he moaned, watching as she dipped a hand into her underwear and began rubbing her clit slowly.

She smiled at him, meeting his eyes as she dipped a finger into her entrance. "Oh…" she moaned softly.

"Show me," Sirius said, eyes trained hungrily on her covered cunt.

She pulled her hand out of her knickers and slipped them off, then spread her legs and put her feet up on the bed so that she was spread wide for him. Her body sang with pleasure even though he wasn't yet touching her. She'd woken the morning before throbbing with pleasure, and it had yet to abate. She'd gone for two rounds with Kingsley last night, even after asking Neville to take her during the day. This morning, she'd practically jumped Draco. Yet, here she was, dripping a slow puddle onto Sirius' sheets as she fingered herself to completion.

She cried out as she came, hard. She was almost glad she couldn't see far enough below her bump to see the large wet spot she'd surely left on the sheets.

She flopped back onto the bed, panting with exertion. She felt Sirius approach, and fluttered her eyes open to see him hovering over her, smirking. She moaned as she felt him drag his tip across her oversensitive lips.

"Ready for me, love?" he asked, rubbing himself across her slick lips once more.

"Yes…" she sighed, moaning as he acquiesced. He slid in easily, pumping slowly as he watched her facial expressions.

She reached a weak hand up toward him and he understood her, leaning down to give her a scorching kiss.

"Siriuss…" she breathed into his mouth. He dragged his cock in and out her slowly, teasingly, hitting her most sensitive spots every time. "Oh-!"

She wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him deeper into her, making him moan.

"Fuck, Hermione," he breathed.

"Mmm," she gasped as he began to pick up speed. "Yes, just like that…"

He kissed her again, and they lost themselves in one another. She sensed when he was nearing completion, and she angled up her pelvis to meet his thrusts. It resulted in increased friction on her clit, and she gasped, letting her eyes flutter shut while she lost herself to the sensation of her building orgasm.

"Sirius!" she shouted as he fucked her through her orgasm before coming himself.

He eased himself out of her with a lewd, slick noise, letting their combined fluids drip out of her and onto the bed.

Sirius lay down beside her, breathing heavily.

"Was it worth the wait?" she asked, turning to look at him.

He laughed. "Most definitely."

 **X**

"Come in," Hermione said. She didn't need to ask who it was, and thus wasn't surprised when he spoke.

"I love you so much," Harry said quietly. "So much."

She didn't answer but turned to look at him. As soon as she turned, his eyes flew to her bulging stomach.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he sounded broken. "I would never intentionally hurt you, or...or our…" his voice broke as he choked out the words. "...or our child," he finished sadly.

"I know," she said quietly.

"I won't ever, ever do that to you again," he pleaded, crossing over to her again and dropping to his knees. "I swear it." He leaned his head forward gently, as if expecting her to push him away, then relaxed as she let him rest it gently on her belly.

"Hi baby," he breathed after a few moments. "I love your mum so much," he whispered, kissing it gently. "She's everything."

Hermione threaded her fingers through his hair softly. "I love you too, Harry," she said, leaning down to give his mop of hair the softest of kisses, communicating forgiveness and love.

* * *

 **Some of you have been waiting for that Sirius scene - I hope it was worth the wait! Their dynamic is so much fun to explore.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A commenter on ao3 brought to my attention that Hermione's scene with Snape in the dungeon in chapter 7 is very dubcon-esque, which is something I ended up glossing over because of the endless back and forth I went over with that scene. Sometimes, as a writer, it's easy to forget what a reader's perception will be when you have it all mapped out in your head. For those who read the scene and were upset by the lack of warning, I sincerely apologize.**

 **At first, when he bends her over the desk, I had it so that she rubbed up against him in a bid to render him speechless/not fully concede power. However, I ended up feeling that it was OOC and took it out, leaving only the part where he retaliated against her rubbing. That now comes off as dubcon, and doesn't quite fit with where their relationship is going - as a result, I've edited the scene slightly so that it is in line with a conversation I've already written for chapter 13. Now, before he exposes/spanks her, I've added this part:**

He was pressing against her so closely that she could feel every plane of his body pressed against hers. She wiggled slightly, and was met with a friction against his groin that felt unexpectedly incredible. She let out an involuntary moan. It was low, but unmistakable in the silence of the room. They both froze at the sound.

 **Now, in the context of the scene, it goes like this:**

She made it three steps before she was seized by an iron grip and dragged backwards until she was bent over the table, her cheek pressed against its surface. Although he'd shoved her down with unmistakable force, she noted absently that it had been gentler than he'd been their first time together. She almost scoffed at the thought of him giving her extra care while pregnant, and dismissed the idea altogether.

He was pressing against her so closely that she could feel every plane of his body pressed against hers. She wiggled slightly, and was met with a friction against his groin that felt unexpectedly incredible. She let out an involuntary moan. It was low, but unmistakable in the silence of the room. They both froze at the sound.

"Is this what you wanted when you sought me out?" he spoke lowly into her ear. He was looming over her, dangerously close.

She gasped loudly in surprise when he reached up a hand and pulled down her muggle jeans and knickers in one fell swoop, exposing her naked bottom to the chill of the room.

 **X**

 **In case this is confusing, feel free to go back and re-read that scene. It still might qualify as slightly dubcon, but is now a lot less squicky than it was before, which wasn't my intention at all. Otherwise, enjoy the new chapter, I can't wait to hear your thoughts! xx**

* * *

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Hermione lowered herself into one of the library's plush loveseats and balanced her book on her bulging belly. She had only another month and a half or so to go, but it felt like years. She sighed and tried to concentrate on the novel in front of her. She'd read the first sentence three times before giving up and letting it drop to the floor beside her. The throbbing in her loins was near impossible to ignore, and she sighed, laying back into the chair. Most of her husbands were out, save for Snape and Lucius, and it had become increasingly trickier to take care of her pleasure herself.

She'd left the dungeons after only a quarter hour that morning, too aroused by Snape's mere presence that she feared she would attack him and humiliate herself. She still dutifully went to Lucius' chambers when she was due, where he would take her quickly and then proceed to ignore her for the majority of the rest of the time, his presence only known by the multitude of elves he sent to cater to his potential unborn grandchild's every whim. She hadn't dared seek him out, although she'd been half tempted to knock on his door many a time.

The baby kicked then, interrupting her thoughts, and she pressed a loving hand over where she felt the movement.

She heard the soft clicking of Lucius' walking stick on the hallway floor before he stepped into the library moments later. "Good day, Mrs. Malfoy," he said formally, seating himself across from her.

"Hello, Lucius," she said.

He appraised her quietly for a moment before speaking. "May I ask why you've decided to continue sending off my elves in such a rude fashion?"

Her face hardened. "As I've told you before, I do not require any bloody servants."

He tsked at her tone. "So you say," he said. "Yet you continually damage my home with your magic misfiring, and I hear you constantly begging Draco and Potter to rub your aching feet."

"That's just- it doesn't mean that I need servants who are treated no better than slaves constantly milling about me!" she stumbled slightly over her retort.

"They clean up after you regardless, and you send them away only to have my son debase himself by doing the things they could do for you," he clipped.

"Draco is more than happy to-"

"Do not delude yourself into thinking that my son would do those things for any other reason than following his lovesick inclinations," Lucius answered sharply. "Use the elves."

Hermione scowled at him and did not answer. She shifted uncomfortably, painfully aware of the throbbing need between her legs. Still, she said nothing to Lucius, but when she looked up at him there was a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Ah yes," Lucius said. "But you do you have needs that the elves can't take care of, don't you?" His grey eyes swept over her body.

She cursed her inclination towards wearing light muggle dresses during the summer months, and felt her skin tingle under his gaze. She shifted, pressing her legs closer together, somehow feeling as if he could sense her arousal from where he sat.

"Tell me," he drawled slowly. "Have you taken to...satisfying your needs?" he seemed to feed off of her discomfort.

She didn't answer, but he continued nonetheless. "Pregnant women oftentimes have...elevated needs," he continued. She took in his flawless features, complimented by his deep, enticing voice, and mused that the man had likely never needed to use his wealth to bend people to his will.

"Spread your legs for me," he encouraged, and she did.

Her arousal propelled her forward, and she looked to him as if awaiting for his next instruction. He smirked at her instant acquiescence, and she straightened quickly as she realized what she'd done, face flaming.

"Ah, ah, ah," he smirked. The space between them was small enough that he was able to reach out his walking stick and part her legs for her again. They fell open easily, much to his amusement.

"Don't fight your pleasure." His voice was a caress, and she let her head fall to the back of the couch and her eyes slip closed as he used the stick to gently caress her inner thighs. She wondered vaguely if he'd enchanted it, because surely it couldn't normally have felt this soft...

She opened her eyes as he removed the stick from between her legs, only to slide into the seat beside her.

"Do you truly wish to resist this?" he breathed into her neck, before his hand slid up where his cane had been mere moments prior. She bit her lip to hold back a moan. Yes, a part of her yearned not to concede power this time and resist him, but a much, much bigger part craved his touch.

She clamped her thighs over his hand suddenly, stopping its ascent as she opened her eyes to look into his. "No teasing," she begged quietly. His fingertips brushed leisurely across the spot where she'd stopped them as he seemed to contemplate her request with an unreadable look on his face.

"Very well then," he nodded, and the second she let go, she watched him move his hand up her dress until his fingertips teased at her bare nether lips.

His eyebrows raised a fraction before his lips melted into a sly grin. "My, my," he said. "You have been busy."

She flushed lightly, recalling the moment she'd decided to forego her knickers altogether as she'd sought out Sirius earlier for a quick shag, only to find his rooms empty.

Lucius swept a finger though her pussy lips, eyes dancing dangerously as he discovered the excess slickness there. He casually lifted the finger he'd cupped her with and sucked on it gently, meeting her eyes as he gave his finger a final lick.

"What do you want?" he teased as his hand slid back up her dress, his finger curling delicately through her public hair.

"To come," she breathed with half-lidded eyes, focused only on the heat that grew in her loins under his expert touch.

"How?" he pressed, watching her expressions intently as he pressed lightly against her swollen clit.

"I want…" she gasped as he plunged a single digit into her.

"Tell me," he urged.

"Please…" It was good, so good, but it would have been better if he would add another finger, or two…

"Please _what_?" He curled his finger inside her, tickling gently at her in a way that made her arch into his touch.

"Please fuck me," she gasped, looking into his eyes.

His eyes met hers for a moment, dancing satisfactorily before he spoke. "Very well," he said. He pulled his hand out of her and stood her upright, walking her over to the nearest of the bookshelves that lined the walls. He spun her to face him and hiked up her dress, and wrapping her legs around his waist before she felt her back hit the bookshelf.

She rubbed herself against him wantonly, impatient as he slid off his emerald green robes and undid his trousers. She sighed happily when she felt his cock teasing at her entrance. She tore at his shirt to bring him as close to her as her rounded belly would allow, then bucked into him until he complied, easing his cock into her. She heard the buttons of his shirt plinking to the floor around them, and ran her hands hungrily over his muscled torso.

"Oh!" she gasped loudly - too loudly, and she let a panicked eye stray towards the open doors to the library before Lucius began pistoning in and out of her.

She buried her face in his neck and bit down lightly on the skin between his neck and shoulder in an attempt to stifle her moans. Her hands scrambled for purchase against the bookshelf, and she heard several books tumble to the ground as she accidentally grabbed at their spines.

She drew his face as close as she could, until their lips were so close that their breath mingled. She looked into his impenetrable grey eyes, looking for a hint of..something, though she did not know what. Their expression was unreadable, yet he appeared to be reading her as much as she read him.

He broke their trance to tug down the front of her dress and latch his lips onto one of her swollen breasts, tongue laving expertly at her nipple. She came swiftly, his name dropping from her lips loudly as she melted beneath his thrusts. He continued fucking her, and she wound her still trembling arms around him for purchase. She threaded her fingers through his silvery hair, marvelling at how it still looked perfect even during their rough lovemaking.

He came with a low grunt, holding her upright as she continued to catch her breath, her arms and legs still wrapped tightly around him.

"Can you stand?" he asked after a minute of silence, and she nodded into his shoulder.

He dislodged himself from her, then set her down and let her straighten her dress quickly. She looked around the room, taking in its high, vaulted ceilings and the large and _very open_ double doors across the room from them. She flushed, hoping no one had returned home during their tryst, because the noises she'd made would have certainly carried across the large room.

He summoned the buttons of his shirt, and was about to begin buttoning it closed when she placed a hand on his abdomen.

"Lucius…" she breathed, running her hand across a long scar that cut across part of the defined muscle of his lower abdomen and twisted around to his back, which was still hidden by his shirt. "What happened to you?" She wondered how she hadn't noticed it before, then realized that he'd probably been using a glamour to cover it, just had she had upon her own scar.

"Nothing of concern," he said, his voice flat as he stepped out of her reach and deftly buttoned his shirt up to his neck before turning around to gather his robes.

She wished to search his eyes for answers, although she suspected that she would only end up frustrated to find that they still showed no emotion. "Was it...was it him?" she whispered.

He looked up at her sharply. "Do not dare think that our _affiliation_ has earned you the place to pose such questions to me." True to his words, his expression was cold as ever, as if nothing had just transpired between them.

"I was just-"

"Meddling in affairs that have nothing to do with you," he snapped, _accio_ -ing his walking stick wordlessly.

She almost bit back the words she'd held back for so long now, but his treatment of her incensed her to the point where she could handle it no longer. "Nothing to do with me?" she snapped back at him. "Unless you've forgotten, those _affairs_ ruined years of my life."

He arched an eyebrow. "You seem to have let your petty fame inflate your sense of importance."

"You-" she sputtered, her pent up anger churning within her. "You ruined my life! Harry's life!" she seethed. "Draco's life," she added, her voice low and hard.

At that, his eyes flashed with an unreadable, yet intense emotion. "Do not dare insinuate that you know anything about my son beyond your pathetic childhood romance."

"Were weren't children!" she shouted. "You certainly didn't treat him like a child when you forced him to take the Mark. We were together then, too - or have you forgotten?" Her eyes snapped briefly to his covered forearm, where she knew no trace of the Mark remained, it having disappeared the moment Voldemort died.

"My son has always been my priority," his voice was dark, darker than she'd ever heard it before, and she knew she was toeing a line that many would have feared to cross.

She continued anyway. "Was he? How so?" she laughed once, without any humor. "I held him, all those nights while I watched him slowly fall apart, knowing that the time would soon come to the point where he would have to choose between me and the evils you would force him to do." She was breathing heavily, anger seeping through her pores as her memory of Draco's broken look as she lay on the drawing room floor assaulted her.

He advanced on her quickly, forcing her to back up until her back hit the exact bookshelf he had had her up against only minutes before.

"You stood by the side of that soulless madman while Draco suffered. Did you even notice-"

"You. Know. Nothing," he spat, eyes dancing with rage.

"You stood by his side, and helped him engineer the horrors that ruined so many of our lives, yet you continue to go around claiming that you've been _reformed_ and-"

"Do you think that there is a bare definition of your pathetic goodness that all must fit into, or be forever cast aside as evil, and remain irredeemable should we fail your little test?"

"There is a difference, a huge one, whether you like it or not-"

"You know nothing of what I've done, what I've had to do, in order to protect him!"

"Whatever you claim to have done, you did a _shit_ job at it." Although Draco and Narcissa's actions to protect Harry been well publicized in their trials that had led to their ultimate releases, Hermione seethed as she recalled how Lucius had somehow managed to slip by on their coattails, having his own trial sealed and forgotten by the public among the chaos of the plague so that he'd been exempt from returning to Azkaban despite all of his transgressions.

His face held an emotion that surpassed rage, and she wondered if he would strike her.

Instead, he held her gaze for a long while, eyes blazing, before he stormed out of the room.

She sunk down onto the floor, heart beating wildly as she contemplated their exchange. She'd rarely seen much emotion in him at all, let alone the deep, eerie rage she'd seen boiling in the depths of his silver eyes as he'd stared her down.

Her hands were trembling, and she tried to still them. She'd seen Lucius in his truest, most terrifying form, and she knew in no uncertain terms that the reputation he'd carried before the war - and somehow had still kept afterwards - had been well earned. She felt a sudden wave of sickness and retched on the ground beside her. She'd allowed herself to get swept up in his small actions of courtesy towards her, in her maddening lust for him, that she'd ignored who he truly was.

Miraculously, she was able to banish the mess she'd left on the floor and sat up heaving as she continued to contemplate his words. He clearly thought that abandoning the fight during the Final Battle to search frantically for his son absolved him of all guilt. But no - he was still Lucius Malfoy, and he was only a former Death Eater out of pure necessity.

The loud click of heels moving down the hall interrupted her thoughts, sending a chill down her spine. She froze where she sat on the floor, praying that they would pass the library. She had no such luck. She listened to them approach before she looked up and saw none other than Narcissa Malfoy standing in the doorway.

Steely blue eyes met brown for a long, tense moment, and Hermione feebly hoped that the woman would ignore her as she had on their rare encounters over the weeks as she woman awaited the last of the preparations of the Malfoys' home in the south of France to be finished. She'd deemed Grimmauld's current condition as far beneath her station, and Hermione had been forced to endure her presence until the woman's new abode was deemed free of curses and tweaked to fit her desires.

"Hello, Narcissa," Hermione said finally, huffing as she struggled to pull herself upright.

The other woman watched her struggle but offered no help, instead choosing to watch her with a look of abject disgust.

"How is your, uhm, new home coming along?" Hermione asked, shifting uncomfortably under the woman's gaze.

"Of course," the woman sniffed. "You must be ever so eager to see me gone."

"I didn't mean it like that," Hermione said softly. "I just-"

"You meant exactly what you said," Narcissa clipped.

"Look, I'm sorry for all that's happened to you, I truly wish that it didn't turn out like this."

Narcissa scoffed. "You think that I envy your arrangement? That I _desire_ to be bred like cattle?" Narcissa looked pointedly at Hermione's pregnant belly, her nose upturned in disgust.

"I-"

"No," Narcissa continued. "I loathe that I am to be removed from my home by someone like _you_."

Hermione's mouth thinned, her annoyance outweighing her intimidation. "Your blood prejudice is highly antiquated. And, I'm terribly sorry about Lucius, this-"

Narcissa's eyes darkened. "I care not for that man," she sniffed. "Nor do I care about your blood status. I care that it is _you_ traipsing in here, upending all that I've built."

"Narcissa," she exhaled, exhausted. "I have been nothing but respectful to you since I arrived-"

"Respectul?" the older woman snapped. "You spread your legs at every moment you are presented, yet you dare say you've been _respectful_?"

"I have not-"

"So you did not let my dear ex husband take you in here just now, in plain hearing of all who dared pass nearby?"

Hermione flushed, shifting as she became acutely aware of the remaining stickiness between her thighs.

"You have done nothing but sully this family with your presence," Narcissa spun and made for the exit.

 _This family_. "This is about Draco, isn't it?" Hermione said, hoping the woman hadn't caught the shake in her voice. "He's why you think I'm a whore."

Narcissa froze, not dissimilar to the way Lucius had when she'd brought up Draco earlier.

"You dare talk about my son?" the woman's voice was low, yet chillier than it had ever been.

"We were in love," she said softly. "You knew, didn't you?" _We still are,_ she wanted to add, but she had no doubt the woman would hex her if she did.

The woman spun and began approaching her slowly, her beautiful features a hardened mask. "You dare say that you loved him?"

"With everything I had," Hermione said.

"You _loved_ him," Narcissa said mockingly. "Yet you broke his heart."

"I didn't-"

"Do not dare lie to me," Narcissa seethed. "I _saw_ you do it."

"I-I don't understand." Hermione wracked her brain as she tried to think of how Narcissa could have possibly witnessed any interaction between them, and it had been Draco who'd broken up with her, not the other way around.

"You left him," Narcissa's icy blue eyes shone with anger. "You left him here, and took your other lovers with you."

"When did I-" Oh. _Oh._ She sucked in a breath at Narcissa's words, her mind springing up that awful memory of the drawing room once again. "I didn't mean to - it wasn't... I…" she was at a loss for words.

"You. Left. Him," Narcissa's eyes burned with hatred.

"I didn't mean to," Hermione said weakly.

"You did!" Narcissa raised her voice.

"We weren't lovers-"

Narcissa scoffed, incredulous. "I've seen the papers."

"-then," Hermione finished weakly.

"You think that I call you a whore because of a measly law. You think that you can redeem yourself by blaming it on necessity and circumstance, but this is something you are now, and always have been. You _left_ him, you left him for _them_ and _that_ is why you are nothing but a filthy whore." The older woman's voice was scathing, and full of acute hatred.

Hermione felt her rage building again as she faced the onslaught of anger she'd already partially unleashed upon Lucius rise again. "You dare call me a whore? You are his mother! _You_ were supposed to protect him!"

"I did everything!" Narcissa shouted. "Everything I could! And you did nothing-"

"I'm part of the reason you still stand here today, in your home, freely!"

"Your ego far outweighs your accomplishm-"

"I say nothing but the truth!" Hermione snapped. "How can you possibly come here and blame me for _your_ failures?"

Narcissa was breathing heavily, her eye twitching with anger at Hermione's words.

"Blame Lucius for your misgivings, not me!" Hermione continued. "I am certainly not the one who gave up your home to-"

"You think I haven't? I despise that man and all he's put my son and I through with every fibre of my being!" Narcissa spat. "That maniac's damned plague should have finished taking him, too," she seethed, before turning on her heel and storming out of the room, not unlike Lucius had a short while prior.

Hermione paused at the woman's revelation. She'd suspected the plague's origins for some time - they all had. But the Wizengamot had sealed all but the most pertinent information about it from St. Mungo's and agreed that the public's speculations were likely, but as of yet unproven. The timing was just too perfect, too coincidental to be anything but what Narcissa had just admitted that it was. But Lucius…

She hadn't known that Lucius had been one of the victims of it. She'd just accused him of helping Voldemort engineer destruction such as the plague, unknowing that he'd been one of its victims. The plague's spread had begun not too long after the war, and it was suspected that it had been released around the time of the Final Battle, akin to a slow acting backup plan in case they failed. She wondered if Lucius had already secretly defected then, choosing to save Draco instead of furthering his beliefs. Had he known the plague was coming, and fearfully tried to hide his family away from its effects? He hadn't been in St. Mungo's - she was certain of that, as she'd seen the list of the infected dozens of times and would have remembered. He would have likely used their personal healer instead, and hoped for the best.

She exited the library once she'd deemed the halls were safe of Lucius and Narcissa, her head swimming with unpleasant thoughts and memories of all that had recently transpired.

 **X**

Hermione found herself back in the dungeons, her feet carrying her back to work, her sole other haven now that the library had been tainted with Narcissa's presence. Snape did not acknowledge her presence as she entered, and she was too preoccupied in her thoughts to fear him.

An acute, sharp pain shot through her side suddenly, and she staggered, dropping the bowl of octopus powder she'd picked up in a cloud of dust.

"Unh-!" she grunted as she doubled over in pain again, gripping the table in front of her so she didn't fall.

Snape seized her upper arm roughly, drawing her up as she staggered. He was saying something to her in a low, urgent tone, but she couldn't focus on his words over the pain.

She felt something wet trickling down her thighs, and looked down to see a trickle of blood flowing down her bare leg and into a small puddle between her sandals.

"Severus," she said, panicked as she gripped him hard, before succumbing to the pain.


	12. Chapter 12

**Couldn't leave you all hanging for that long! Chapter 13 is almost finished, but it is a little shorter than this one so I may lengthen or merge it with what I had planned for 14 before posting. I originally posted the wrong version of this chapter, but I updated it a few minutes after posting, so hopefully only a few of you read that version.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWELVE**

Hermione knew she was in the hospital this time, but refused to open her eyes all the same. She could hear the low, urgent whispers of those in the room, and longed to shut out the voices. She did not want to hear what they would say. She knew, just from the painful throbbing between her legs, that it would not be anything she wanted to hear.

"She's awake," a familiar voice spoke from beside her. A hand wiped away a tear she hadn't realized had slipped from her closed eyes. "Hermione, sweetheart, please talk to me," Harry's urgent voice persisted.

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away. In her head, she began screaming, praying that if she made up a noise loud enough it would drown out those in the room, and she wouldn't have to hear the words she'd so been dreading to hear.

"Baby, please," she'd unwittingly turned her head towards where Draco sat on her other side, and she felt him stroke her cheek soothingly.

She turned her head upwards and clapped her hands over her face as more tears began to flow. "My baby," she sobbed. "My poor baby, my baby, _my baby_ ," she was nearly incoherent.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted. She hadn't realized that she'd started thrashing wildly, but she opened her eyes as her arms were locked down to see Harry, Draco, and Neville holding her down from various positions around her hospital bed.

"The baby is fine, love," Sirius was standing across the room, looking alarmed as he took in her appearance. "The baby is fine, I promise," he said again.

"Wh-what?" she blubbered.

"The baby is alright, Hermione," Neville assured her.

There was a shift behind him, and she was surprised to see Snape standing behind him, his face devoid of emotion although his eyes were trained on her. She looked around the room, and realized that they were in St. Mungo's, but instead of the plain rooms she'd become accustomed to, they were in one of the exclusive suites on the hospital's uppermost floors. Arthur and Lucius were seated in large, plush armchairs, and even Kingsley was there. All eyes were trained on her.

She sniffled, looking around again. "Why...why are you all here?"

"Why are we-" Draco's voice had an angry edge, but he cut himself off mid-sentence as he caught her expression. "We're here because you had an emergency," he finished more softly.

"You and the baby…" Neville spoke quietly. "You were in distress," he said.

"We could have lost you," Harry whispered. "Both of you," he added.

"I-" she tried to recall what had happened to her that day, and it came back in a dreadful rush. Lucius. Narcissa. Blood, _so much blood_...

"Oh," she choked, running her hands over her belly. "I'm so sorry baby," she cried, fresh tears running down her cheeks. She sobbed hard, uncaring for once of all the eyes on her.

"Hermione, please," Harry begged. "You need to calm down. Everything's alright now," he gripped her hand, eyes shining with worry.

She nodded and let Harry wipe at her face with a cool, damp cloth as she tried to regulate her breathing.

"What happened Hermione?" Neville asked after she calmed a bit.

She looked up, and noticed him and Harry shooting dark glares at Snape, who glared back. "Stop it," she said quietly. "He-he didn't do anything," she said, meeting Snape's eyes as he looked over to her again. It had most likely been him that had brought her here, after she'd bled and nearly collapsed on the floor of his lab. "Thank you," she said to him. He gave her a quick nod in response.

"What was it, then?" Draco asked. She looked up at him, then away again as she saw the relief reflected in his eyes. He probably felt relieved that it hadn't been his godfather that caused her distress. She didn't want to break his heart by telling him that it had actually been his parents, and an argument that had had everything to do with him.

"It was nothing, I've just been stressed with it all," she answered finally. She doubted they believed her, but they didn't press the issue all the same.

The door to the room opened then, and Healer Browne stepped in. A somber look descended on the woman's face as she took in Hermione's expression. "I trust your husbands have brought you up to speed on the situation?" she asked.

Hermione nodded, not yet trusting her voice to be steady enough to respond.

"Good," Healer Browne said, satisfied. "Your distress was likely caused by heightened stress, but you and the baby are no longer in danger. If you don't mind…" she gestured at those nearest her bed to move deeper into the room, and they moved quickly.

"Are you alright if I…?" Healer Browne gestured at her nether regions and she blushed, but nodded all the same. She knew that it would cause too much friction to send out some husbands and not others, and she hadn't she strength to bother at the moment.

The room was quiet as the Healer placed her legs in stirrups and summoned a stool so that she could peer under the sheet that was tented over her spread legs. Although none of her husbands could see anything, she still felt dreadfully exposed.

"Does that hurt?" Healer Browne asked, her fingers prodding lightly.

Hermione nodded, then remembered the woman couldn't see her. "Yes," she whispered, then sighed in relief when the woman whispered a spell that had her relaxing as the pain lifted. Harry and Draco had ventured back towards her upon hearing the pain in her voice, and were now close enough to take one of her hands in each of theirs. She squeezed them back gratefully.

The woman prodded around and casted diagnostic spells for a few more minutes in silence, although Hermione could only focus on the bated breaths of her husbands as they lingered behind her.

"Is everything alright?" Draco finally broke the silence, his voice laced with concern.

"Everything is fine," Healer Browne said as she stood up, gently removing Hermione's feet from the stirrups before righting her clothes with a flick of her wand.

Hermione sighed, thankful.

"When was the last time you had intercourse?" Healer Browne asked, her voice as professional as ever.

Oh, _gods_. Hermione's face burned in embarrassment. "Erm," she said awkwardly. She peeked out the window nearest her and spotted the late afternoon sun hanging low in the sky. "This, uh, late this morning," she muttered. Healer Browne nodded, and an awkward silence ensured.

Hermione begged the gods that the woman wouldn't continue, but she was a healer herself and thus already knew the next question the woman would ask before it left her lips.

"And how many ti-" Healer Brown started, but Hermione cut her off before she could pose the entire embarrassing question out loud.

"Five," Hermione said quickly.

Healer Browne's eyebrows raised minutely. "In the past-" _Twenty-four hours?_ The woman was going to ask, but Hermione cut her off again.

"Yes," she said hastily, face flaming.

Healer Browne paused. "You are in no way required to appease to your husbands' excessive...demands, especially while pregnant," she noted with a stern look on her face as her narrowed eyes roved the room. If they hadn't caught on to the questions the healer had been asking before, the men certainly had by now. She heard some distinctly awkward sounding shuffling, and a throat clear in the silence.

"I'm aware. It was, uh, my choice," she mumbled, longing for the cover of Harry's invisibility cloak to hide her embarrassment.

Healer Browne looked into her eyes before nodding, seeming satisfied with what she saw. "Very well, then." She moved over Hermione's stomach, and tears sprang to Hermione's eyes when the sound of the baby's heartbeat hit her ears. It was as strong as ever.

"Any other symptoms other than an increased libido?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head no, face still flaming. "Just been a little tired, but otherwise fine. Besides my magic issues, of course," she answered quietly.

The other woman nodded. "You also need rest, and no stress until delivery," she added sternly. "You had some bleeding, but the baby is no longer in danger."

"Thank you," Hermione said softly, eyes still shining with happy tears at the news that her baby was alright.

"You may resume having, erm, relations, once you feel ready," Healer Browne continued. Hermione reddened again, immensely grateful that she didn't have to meet the eyes of any of the men in the room in that moment. "But not too rough," Healer Browne sternly, looking around the room once more.

The room was silent for a moment as Hermione burned in embarrassment. Harry and Draco's hands had stiffened in hers, but she did not dare look up to see if either was looking at her.

"Would you like to know the gender?" Healer Browne carried on casually, as if she hadn't just brought up her vibrant sex life in front of all eight of her husbands.

Immediately, she heard a chorus of yeses from around the room. "Actually," Hermione smiled at their eagerness, "I'd like to be surprised."

Healer Browne nodded and gave her leave to return home before exiting.

"Oh come on!" Draco snapped.

"Really?" Harry said.

"Yes, really, Harry," Hermione laughed again, feeling light. "Wouldn't you like to be surprised as well?"

"I'd rather not leave _every_ surprise for the delivery room," Draco sniffed.

She swatted at him playfully. "Patience, please."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Arthur asked.

She hadn't heard him approach, but she smiled gratefully at him. "I am now," she assured him. He nodded and squeezed her hand before taking his leave after Harry and Draco assured him that they would escort her home.

The other men in the room began filing out with small goodbyes. Lucius and Snape said nothing, but nodded quickly at her before taking their leave.

Soon, she was alone with Draco and Harry.

"Alright, shall-" Hermione stopped short. The two men each had a hand outstretched to help her up, and they were glaring at each other.

She looked between their hands, realizing they expected her to make a choice. She opted instead to swing her legs over the bed and push herself up on her own.

She'd overestimated her strength, however, and found herself pitching forward towards the floor before being caught by two sets of hands.

She looked up to find their glares directed at her. "No stress," she reminded them, crossing her arms. "Which means no forcing me to choose."

They exchanged another glare before helping her up.

"I'd like to go for a walk," she said smiling at them. "It'll be good for the baby."

"Hermione, you need rest-" Harry started.

"No walks. Let's go home for now-" Draco started speaking over him.

"It will be good for the baby, I promise!" she said, smiling at them as she tucked a hand in the crook of each of their arms.

 **X**

"Isn't this nice?" Hermione smiled happily, enjoying the feel of the sunshine on her skin. She'd changed into muggle maternity jeans and a tank top that Harry had brought her, and she was thoroughly enjoying the feel of the warmth on her skin.

"Fantastic," Draco ground out, looking at the muggles around them with disgust. They were in the same park she'd walked through with Neville near Grimmauld, and the sun was shining high in the sky as the Londoners took in the rare sunshine.

She giggled at their obvious discomfort, touched at the notion that they were there, together, solely for her benefit.

"Thank you," she told them, taking up each of their hands and squeezing them in appreciation. "I needed this." A muggle woman pushing a stroller smiled at her, then frowned slightly as she saw the way Hermione's hands were intertwined with two different mens'. Hermione dropped their hands hastily, flushing.

"Let's get ice cream," she diverted their attention to the cart Neville had deemed his favorite.

They were soon sat on a bench, cones in hand. Harry and Draco had vanilla and chocolate, respectively, while she'd chosen a twist cone to appease them. She hadn't the heart to tell them that she actually preferred strawberry as they'd both waited with baited breath to see which of the two flavors she would pick.

"Oh!" she exclaimed happily, running a hand over her stomach. "Baby likes this," she giggled, feeling it roll around inside her.

"He's kicking?" Draco asked, hands flying over her belly. "Where?"

Harry scowled, shoving away one of Draco's hands as he tried to feel as well. "It could be my son, too. Or daughter," Harry said wistfully. He yelped happily as he felt the baby kick, and Draco shoved Harry's hands away to feel for himself. Even as they fought, they were both exceedingly gentle with their touches.

"What…" Hermione asked quietly, lips quivering as she finally formed the question she'd wanted to ask for a long while now. "What will you do when the baby comes? It can only be one of yours, and I know you don't get on, but-"

"Wait," Draco stopped her. "You don't think-"

"Hermione," Harry said softly. "No matter who the father is, the baby will still be half yours."

"I promised you that I would care for your children, no matter whose they are." Draco's voice was tinged with sincerity.

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Can you manage this, then? Me? You? Us? This entire...situation we've found ourselves in?"

"All I want is you, Hermione," Harry said, stroking a finger over her cheek.

Draco nodded. "I'll take whatever I can get."

"I…" she hesitated. "I don't think I would have been able to choose, if I'd only been allowed one."

Both men were quiet, pensive as they waited for her to continue.

"I didn't have to chose, in the end, but I do have to share myself among you, and others," she said. "But I will always want you. Both of you. Please don't ever forget that."

She nodded, smiling at them and being met with a smile from each in return.

"Oh!" she shot up. "We have something to do today!" she giggled, pulling them up as she led them off to find a discreet place to apparate.

They were walking through Diagon Alley a short time later, and she pulled them through the throngs of people to a store she'd discovered by chance a few weeks prior.

Harry's eyes lit up in delight as he realized where she was taking him, and even Draco's eyes had a gentle glint in them beneath the trepidation she saw.

The store was filled with the buzzing and whirring of various magical trinkets that were nestled amongst rows of cribs, strollers, toys, and clothing.

"Hullo," a young woman said from behind the counter across from them. Her eyes widened minutely as she recognized her guests who pulled off their concealing cloaks once they were certain they were safe from the eyes of nosy reporters. Hermione smiled back at her.

Hermione immediately left the two men to their own devices and began exploring the store's multitude of aisles, which she noted had been charmed to expand - likely a result of the impending amount of expectant mothers that would be descending upon it.

She was most enthralled by the toy aisle. There was a large bear that, when tapped with the right spell, would stand up and dance, or sing a pre-programmed lullaby. There was a stuffed dragon that was charmed to fly in low, lazy circles, breathing puffs of multicolored fire that was cool and slightly ticklish on the skin. A set of dazzling toy fairies giggled happily, leaving smatterings of glitter in their path as they toyed with anyone who came near.

She moved past the toys to the furniture, and found a changing table that was demonstrating how it automatically cleaned and changed a fake baby within seconds of it laying down, repeating its movements on an endless magical loop. She was dazzled by a beautiful canopy that moved in an invisible breeze, shimmering iridescently, and a charmed powder that simulated a night sky twinkling with the light of a thousand stars when dusted in the air. She wanted it all, and thought absently that she probably _should_ buy it all, what with the litter of children the house would soon be filled with.

She'd been fingering nursing robes with trepidation when she heard Harry calling out to her excitedly.

"Hermione!" he called. "You have got to see this!"

She followed his voice and found him and Draco at the front of the store, enraptured by a crib in the display window. She rolled her eyes slightly when she approached, realizing the reason for their excitement. It was a large, exceedingly opulent crib, that was completely gilded in what looked almost like real gold, complete with curling gold vines that seemed to undulate around the round crib's railing. But this was not what had captured her husbands' attention. The two men were watching the miniature Quidditch team that flitted around in the air above the crib, cheering excitedly as the game intensified.

"Really?" she said, hands on her hips in mock annoyance even as her lips twitched with humor.

"Yes, really," Harry said, whooping with joy as the team he'd chosen scored.

Draco scowled, then cheered loudly as a player on his team caught the snitch, swinging the game in his favor. "Ha!" he said smugly. "Do you ever make the right choice, Potter?"

Harry scowled, but said nothing as the players started up again.

"Come along," Hermione said, laughing at their antics. "Besides, we can't get this," she added.

Both mens' eyes whipped to her instantly. "What? Why not?" Harry pouted.

"Have you seen the price of this?" she gestured at the price tag, cringing at the absurd amount of zeroes it displayed.

Harry and Draco blinked at her.

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

"You do know that we're rich, right?" Draco deadpanned.

Hermione sighed. "You may be well off-"

"We," both men corrected her, only to be met with a scowl.

"-but I refuse to spend exorbitant amounts of money on frivolous things-"

Both men looked affronted at her words. "Frivolous?" Harry said. "We have to start our children out young!"

"What if this one's a girl?" she asked.

"There are plenty of fantastic women's Quidditch teams out there," Draco shot back.

"Yes, but-" Hermione was terrified of brooms herself, and she felt sick at the thought of her child mounting one. She knew she'd have little to no shot at warning away a boy, but she'd hoped that a girl would be more amenable to her mother's concerns.

"But nothing," Draco said. "Besides, I've already purchased two." He smirked at her indignation.

"Two?! Honestly Draco, that is just-"

"And we've already requested that they have whatever you've taken a fancy to sent over to the Manor immediately," Harry said happily, and Draco nodded, looking distinctly proud of himself.

Hermione gaped. She'd looked at half the things in the shop wistfully. She could only imagine what was now awaiting her at home.

The two men snickered at her speechlessness, then went back to watching their game.


	13. Chapter 13

**A note on Arthur: As we all know, a relationship between Arthur and Hermione is pretty uncomfortable to think about. On top of that, the actor that played him looks exactly the opposite of what you would want for Hermione, but I just wanted to remind you that I'm basing him more off what he's depicted as in the books than in the movie. He's described as being 5'11 and 154 pounds, which would make him quite slim and not as portly as he was depicted in the films. If you need a visual for reference, I'd always pictured him as looking somewhat in the realm of what Fred and George's actors would look like when they're 20 years older or so. On a similar note, I always pictured book Snape to look more like Keanu Reeves than Alan Rickman because of his age, although I know many had a thing for Alan Rickman all the same (I can't blame you - that _voice_!). Anywhoo, enjoy the new chapter! **

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Kissing Arthur was different, but not unpleasant. At first, she'd found that she needed to focus on the many things she enjoyed about kissing in general instead of what it was like to kiss him. Now, though, she'd learned to appreciate him in different ways.

She enjoyed the soft kisses he would start with, always her cheek, then her chin, then her lips. He was gentle and slow, yet not inexperienced. He had learned, as their sessions had grown longer, how to caress her with his tongue until she let out a soft, breathy moan that he would then immediately swallow with another kiss. His touch was at once gentle and firm. Gentle, in the way it felt feather light across her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. Firm, in the knowing way he sensed all the places that would make her arch her back and curl her toes.

Now, for instance, he held her tightly in his arms as she straddled him, his large hands running over her sides. She ran her own hands over his torso, exploring him as much as he explored her. He wasn't leanly toned as Harry and Draco were from years of playing Quidditch, nor was he broad and strongly muscled ad Lucius or Sirius. His chest was firm nonetheless, yet softer than her other husbands in a way that was not at all unattractive.

He'd leaned down to ghost delicate kisses across her throat, smiling into her skin when she responded by grinding down into his lap. She paused, however, when she felt his hard length brush against her. They froze, and she looked into his eyes, panting heavily as she tried to catch her breath. They'd been moving slow, very slow, and this was still uncharted territory.

She held his gaze as she reached a tentative hand between them and ran it along his clothed hardness. He shuddered under her touch and let his eyes fall closed.

"Is this alright?" she asked. He opened his eyes as she palmed him again, questioning.

"Yes," he breathed.

She kissed him again, slowly, then scooted forward until their bodies were pressed together. She gyrated her hips against his length slowly, smiling as he let out a breathy moan.

"Good?" she whispered, pulling back.

"Good," he agreed, before tugging her gently to kiss him once more.

 **X**

It was nearly a week after her hospital stay before Hermione crossed paths with Lucius privately again. She had just crossed the main entrance hall and was about to ascend the grand staircase when the main doors opened and her husband stepped through. They both paused, looking at each other. She wondered if he would bother saying anything, then dismissed the idea as she remembered that this was Lucius Malfoy, and his pride most likely always won.

She'd taken two steps up when he finally spoke.

"I…" she turned to see him hesitating, looking distinctly uncomfortable. She recalled that she'd never seen him look even the slightest bit uncomfortable, and it almost made her feel the same. "I apologize for any distress our last encounter may have caused you," he finished quietly.

"Do better," she snapped at him. "Do better, because this time, it may be your grandchild. Next time, it could be your child, and my baby could have _died_ because of you and that woman-"

Lucius inhaled sharply. "Which woman?"

"You know damn well who," she snapped back. "Your wife!"

He raised an eyebrow, although his face remained expressionless.

"Your ex-wife! I don't care," she seethed, approaching him.

"I-"

She cut him off. "I am your wife, Lucius. Your _wife_ , not some whore that was dragged in from the street, and it is damn well time you started treating me it! If you ever dare put me or any child I am carrying in danger again, I _promise_ I will hex you to kingdom come."

"Understood," he articulated after a long silence. His lip was twitching in annoyance, although he said nothing. She wondered when - if ever - anyone had last turned their ire on him, but she decided she didn't care.

"And that bitch has to go," she added. " _Now_."

There were footsteps then, and Kingsley stepped out of the sitting room nearest them, eyeing them with interest. "Is everything alright, Hermione?" he asked, eyes sweeping between them.

"I am fine, thank you," she said, throwing him a smile she hoped wasn't dripping with the falsity she heard in her voice. "I'm feeling a little tired, so please excuse me," she said before climbing up the stairs once more.

 **X**

Late that evening, she found herself in bed with Kingsley, tracing lazy circles across the curly hairs that were scattered across his naked chest. She let her eyes sweep over his broad, muscular body appreciatively, lingering on his thick cock that lay flaccid on his thigh. He followed her gaze, laughing his deep, rumbling laugh that shook the bed slightly.

"I'll need a few more minutes before I'm ready again, Hermione," he laughed.

She flushed, and leaned up to kiss him quickly. They fell into a comfortable silence, and his hand swept gently over the swell of her stomach.

"What happened that day?" he asked as he began tracing his own patterns over her.

"I…" she knew she had no reason to lie to Kingsley about things, but felt herself hesitating nonetheless. "I'd momentarily forgotten who Lucius Malfoy was," she said finally. "He just reminded me, is all."

Kingsley was quiet and pensive for a long moment before answering. "There are many...facets to the man that are difficult to understand."

Hermione leaned up on her elbow, frowning at him. "Why are you standing up for him?"

"I am not excusing his actions," Kingsley said. "I know not what he has done. I am merely reminding you that not everything in life is black or white."

An eerie chill ran down her spine as Kingsley repeated similar words that Lucius had during their argument. "What do you mean by that, Kingsley?" she peered down at him, trying to read his expression, but his face was blank.

"Exactly what I said, and nothing more," he reassured her, tugging her back down into his arms. They lapsed into silence again, but this time her mind was whirring as she tried to make sense of Kingsley's words.

She shot up and looked down at him accusingly. "You know something," she said searching his eyes.

He looked away. "That is not-"

"Don't lie to me Kingsley," she said, tugging at his face until he looked at her again. "I deserve to know."

Kingsley said nothing, and looked away from her again.

"It's about the war, isn't it?" she asked. Kingsley and Lucius were cordial, but they had never seemed friendly. Whatever he knew must have had to do with his position as Minister for Magic.

"Hermione…" he said finally. "Please do not press this."

"Why can I not know?" she asked, annoyed. "He's my husband. _You're_ my husband. There is a spousal privilege between us for many things that cannot easily be breached," she reminded him.

"It is not about you being our wife," Kingsley said, hesitantly. "I simply wish to respect Lucius' request for privacy on the matter."

Hermione's eyes widened as she searched his. He couldn't possibly mean...

"He defected earlier than we thought, didn't he?" she asked quietly, to no avail. "He-was he-"

"Do not ask me questions I cannot answer, Hermione," he replied somberly.

"Was he working for the Order?" she whispered, her voice tinged with shock. "I…" she slid out of the bed, gathering her robe. If what she suspected was true, this changed everything.. _.everything_.

"Hermione…" Kingsley called softly.

"I have to go," she whispered, wandering out of the room in a daze.

She made her way down the hall back towards her rooms, her mind reeling as she dealt with the shock. When she wrenched open the door to her and Lucius' suites, she yelped as she nearly collided with a body.

"Draco?" she asked, surprised by his haggard appearance.

He said nothing, and instead pulled her into her rooms, pulling the doors shut behind him once they were in her sitting room.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly, walking up to him. "Draco, look at me, please."

When he did, she saw the torment behind his eyes. "What did she say to you?" he rasped, running a finger gently over her cheek.

"Who-?"

"My mother, Granger," he said. "She won't tell me. What did she say?" he repeated.

She sucked in a breath. "You didn't hear-?" she racked her brain, trying to remember what exactly she had said to Lucius earlier. "Draco, I-"

"What did she say?" he said again, this time with a dark edge to his voice.

"They love you, Draco, that's all, I swear," she whispered, pulling him close and burying her face in his chest. He froze at her words.

"You fought with them...about me?" his voice was hard and dark.

"No! Draco, it was just a misunderstanding, and it got heated, and-"

"Don't lie to me," he snapped.

"I'm fine now! It is all resolved, and we're okay," she assured him.

"It didn't sound like that earlier," Draco said into her hair.

"I was just angry," she said. "But I've gotten over it now, I promise. I let my anger get the better of me, but I know Lucius meant no harm." She wondered if he had ever meant harm over the past two years, or even since he'd left Azkaban. There was still so much that she didn't know, and Draco likely didn't know it either, judging by the dark look on his face.

"I won't let him do to you what he did to me," he said darkly. "I won't let him hurt you, or the baby."

"He won't, Draco, I swear it," she said. "He's my husband - he can't, not with the binding magic-"

"But he can try!" Draco seethed, clutching her tighter. "I won't let him."

"I know, Draco," she whispered into his chest. "I know."

"You could have died," he rasped. "You could be carrying my child... _our baby could have died_."

"We're fine, Draco," she pulled back and dragged his hands to her stomach. "We're alright."

He nodded, but his eyes were still dark with anguish. She longed to tell him about her suspicions from her conversation with Kingsley, but she knew too little to bring it up. Lucius Malfoy was an enigma indeed, and she had so much more to discover.

 **X**

"Hullo, Severus," Hermione said quietly as she stepped into his lab. The man looked up at her, but this time his face held an unreadable emotion as opposed to his usual annoyance or disdain.

"Are you...well?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I'm fine now," she said quietly, before getting to work beside him. She felt his gaze burning into her, but she could not meet his eyes. They eventually fell into their usual routine of working in silence, and she realized with a start that it had gotten to the point where she almost felt comfortable in here with the surly man.

She mulled over this for a long while as they continued to work before she spoke. "Severus…" she saw him stiffen slightly at the sound of her voice, but she continued nonetheless before she lost her nerve. "I...it's your night, tonight, if you…" she trailed off, flushing slightly.

When he said nothing, she chanced a look up at him only to find him gazing down at her with disdain.

"I do not see the need to participate in such activities outside of the times it is specifically required," he clipped, turning back to his work. "Should you have trouble with that, might I suggest saving a vial for yourself," he added, looking pointedly at the vials of calming draught she had been in the process of filling.

She scowled at him, but stopped the retort on her tongue before it could slip out as a question she'd been meaning to ask popped into her head. "How did you know about the draught, anyway?"

He scowled back at her for a moment before answering, no doubt realizing that he would not be avoiding conversation with her on this day. "The Ministry requested my advice on quelling the... _emotions_...the bonding ceremonies would ignite," he said. "This was the safest solution, considering the delicate nature of the magic being used."

"Oh," she said quietly, biting her lip nervously as she debated asking her next question.

"Just ask," Snape snapped, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

She flushed slightly before speaking. "Erm," she started. "These...effects...how long are they expected to last for?" Her insatiable libido had dropped not long after her hospital visit, but she still felt an undercurrent of pulsating desire drawing her to each of her husbands.

He arched an eyebrow before speaking. "Based on the amount of marriages that have now taken place, we now know that the average time is 3 days, but it could last up to five."

She nodded and made to begin filling vials again when she was surprised to hear him continue.

"In your case," he drawled. "Any heightened sexual desire outside of your pregnancy hormones is entirely of your own creation. As I've suggested-" he looked pointedly at the vials of deep purple liquid once more "-these may be of great help to you."

She crossed her arms and glared at him, even as a part within her shrivelled in embarrassment. "Do not insinuate that I am in any way a whore," she growled. "I am sick of it! God forbid I desire to have sex with my _husband_." She snatched up a vial with entirely more force than necessary and began filling it.

Snape offered no reply, but she did feel him looking at her for a moment longer than necessary before resuming his potion making himself.

"And besides," she snapped after working in tense silence for a long while, "How dare you shame me for desiring something so natural? You are bound to me for life, which is a rather long time for wizards especially. Are you so noble that you must reject all forms of intimacy, even when your wife is more than willing to offer it?"

"I spare no such desires for insufferable children such as yourself," he flicked his eyes over her frame in a way that would have had her squirming in embarrassment only months prior.

Instead, she met his eyes with a steely gaze. "You know very well that I am no child," she said lowly. She made a split-second decision then, and continued to hold his gaze as she hoisted herself up on an empty spot of the countertop between the bubbling cauldrons.

Her leg now brushed against his robes, and he held her gaze even as she slowly slid her hands up under her dress, eyes daring him to stop her. She peeled off her knickers, placing them on the counter before she began spreading her thighs slowly, cocking her head at him in challenge at their standoff.

The air had grown thick with tension, and she felt her heart begin to race as she thought of what she was doing, and _whom_ she was doing it with. Nonetheless, she knew she could not back down and continued to spread her thighs until one leg was pressed up against him. She could feel the heat radiating off of him through him robes. She hopes he didn't notice her swallow nervously before she arched her foot and slowly dragged it up his leg, to his thigh, and rested it against his groin, pressing forward slightly. He wasn't completely hard, but she knew his length had gotten at least semi-rigid.

She gave him a sly smile, and continued to brush gentle strokes across him with the tips of her toes before she took a hand and began inching up her dress. Her cheeks pinkened slightly as his eyes finally left hers, only to focus on the skin she was revealing as her dress inched up further. She paused for a moment as she looked at him, satisfied to see his tense fingers gripping hard at the wooden countertop.

She flipped her dress up the rest of the way and leaned back, exposing her pussy to the chilled room. His expression was unreadable, but she wondered if it was her imagination or if his breathing had actually gotten slightly labored. She gathered the dress above her belly, then slid her hands over her pussy, spreading her labia in hopes that he could glimpse the moisture that had gathered at her slit.

She dipped two fingers inside herself, gasping lightly as she used the lubrication to circle her clit. She was undeniably aroused now, but she knew she needed to stop before he came back to his senses and tried to regain control of the situation. She gave herself a few more swipes before closing her legs swiftly and hopping off the counter, abruptly breaking his trance.

"No, not a child at all," she mused, smirking up at him before exiting the room.

* * *

 **I know I'd told some of you that the Arthur scene would be in chapter 12, but I ended up pushing it to this chapter instead. I can't say when 14 will be up, but hopefully it'll be soon! As always, I love to hear your thoughts on the chapters I post, and you can check my social media for updates and snippets of new chapters: on tumblr, I'm blankfishxx and on Facebook I'm Blank Fish. xx**


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

"I understand that Narcissa has now gone?" Arthur asked as they ate dinner. He looked quite overdressed in his suit, but Hermione knew it was because he'd just returned from Molly's wedding, having opted to stay at the reception only briefly. She wanted to ask about the event, but she had held back, knowing how difficult it all was for Arthur. Ginny had wedded only the week before, and of his sons only Charlie remained unbound, and his wedding was scheduled for the following evening.

"Indeed," Lucius confirmed. He'd informed her of Narcissa's departure a few weeks prior, on the day immediately after her outburst. She'd merely nodded and thanked him quickly, too wrapped up in Kingsley's inadvertent revelation to speak with him further. They hadn't slept together since their tryst in the library, and she knew he'd chalked it up to her anger at him. In truth, she was confused - deeply confused - about him, and she felt too uncomfortable to put on a facade of ignorance in front of him.

"-Hermione?" her thoughts were interrupted by Harry's question, and she looked up at where he sat across the table.

"Hmm?" she replied, having been entirely distracted by her thoughts. More than a few of husbands were looking at her, their expressions ranging from concern to curiosity.

"He asked if you've been feeling alright lately, what with the birth coming up and all," Neville said, rubbing her thigh with concern.

"I'm-" she started, pausing when she felt a slight tense pain in her abdomen, followed by a trickle of fluid coating her thighs and leaking onto the cushioned dining chair she sat on. "-fine," she gritted out, trying to keep her face impassive.

"Are you sure, love?" Sirius said from where he sat beside Harry.

"Yes," she plastered on a fake smile and dug enthusiastically into a chunk of the potatoes on her plate, even as her mind began running through the possibilities.

It was possible, of course, that she'd simply urinated on herself, as was common for many pregnant women. She'd been spared from that particular embarrassment so far, but that didn't mean that it couldn't have just happened. She sniffed for the pungent smell of urine, and when she was uncertain if there was no scent or if her pregnancy had thrown off her senses yet again, peeked over at Snape who sat beside her. He'd barely spared her a glance since her display in his lab a few weeks prior, but she had no doubt that he would have at least turned up his nose at the scent of her urinating herself at the dinner table.

But no, the man continued to eat his dinner quietly, sparing her none of his attention. She would have sighed in relief at this, but the fact remained that the incident had not been her urinating herself after all.

This, of course, meant that her water had most definitely just broken and she was in very likely labor. She knew from her training that women typically gave birth within 24 hours of their water breaking, although it could be more. Or less. Considering how her magically sped up pregnancy had been going so far, she highly suspected it was the latter.

Her hand shook as she reached for her glass of water, and she clamped her other hand over it to steady it.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he watched her hands clamped strangely over her glass. "Are you sure you're-"

"M'fine, Harry," she said, gulping down her water in an attempt to quell her mounting anxiety. Healer Browne hadn't known much about what to expect from her labor process, and had advised her to follow her healer instincts. And so, when the next contraction came - yes, there was no doubting it now - she peeked at Neville's wristwatch to see that it had likely been less than ten minutes since the last one, or more.

Hermione began to panic again as she realized that she was _definitely_ out of time to get to St. Mungo's. It was considered inadvisable for a witch to travel by floo, and Apparition was completely out of the question.

"Please excuse me," she said politely, cringing at the obvious strain in her voice.

Most of the men nodded politely at her, although Harry and Draco continued to look at her with concern.

All she had to do was get an owl out to Healer Browne before her husbands noticed anything was amiss. She wanted to bask in the calmness before they all started crowding around her, no doubt bickering while simultaneously flitting around her in frenzied excitement at the idea of her being in labor.

"Do you need help getting upstairs?" Draco asked, and she saw that Harry was already out of his chair, crossing over to her.

"I'm fine," she said, and raised an arms to wave him off. An intense contraction hit her then, and she stumbled slightly, muffling a cry of pain. At once, she was swarmed by concerned men who held her upright while asking her a multitude of frenzied questions.

"I need- to sit," she managed to wheeze out, and she immediately found herself being whisked into the Manor's new drawing room and placed gently on a plush lounge chair.

"Hermione," Kingsley said urgently. He was sitting behind her, propping her up lightly. One of his large hands was cupping her face, and she leaned into his cool touch, relishing in the feeling of it against her burning skin.

"Are you hurt?" Draco asked urgently, taking one of her limp hands in both of his and kissing it.

"I'm alright," she said before gasping as another contraction descended upon her.

"You call this _fine_?" Harry was pacing in front of her, running his hands through his messy hair.

"I am fine," she gritted out after the contraction passed. "It's just labor, nothing else," she added. At her words, the men in the room all paused and stared at her, many of their mouths open in shock.

"Just _labor_?" Neville broke the momentary silence, looking equally flustered, excited, and as though he was about to be very ill.

"Let's get you to St. Mungos," Arthur said calmly from where he stood in the entrance to the room, flanked by the two elder Slytherins.

"Can't," she said. "My contractions are too close together, we need to call Healer Browne-"

"Nonsense," Lucius said. "Our personal healer shall attend to you."

"Call them both, I don't care!"

"Testy, today, are we?" Sirius quipped, smiling at her responding glare. "You'll do great, love, just calm down a bit," he assured her, walking over to rub her shoulder until she became pliant under his expert fingers.

"I'm going to be a mother," she said with wonder in her voice, unknowing of whether to laugh or cry.

Neville laughed before she could decide. "Yes, I rather think so, don't you?" he said, and she couldn't help smiling back at him even as another contraction came upon her.

She screwed her eyes shut and recited everything she knew about childbirth in her head. She only opened them when she felt a gentle hand touch her thigh through the material of her dress. She looked up to see Arthur smiling down at her, his expression relatively calm. "Your contractions seem to be rather close together," he said, taking the hand Draco wasn't holding and squeezing it gently. "Do you mind if I take a look?" She remembered him mentioning that he'd personally delivered four of his children in the privacy of his home, and felt immensely grateful for his presence.

She flushed slightly then nodded. She told him the proper incantation, and he listened intently to her instructions. She watched him mutter an incantation to clean his hands before she let him slip his hands under her dress and gently draw off her knickers. He then ducked his head under her dress, touching her inner thighs gently to signal the presence of his hands before he touched her more intimately. She was grateful for the knee-length of her dress, which gave her some semblance of privacy.

The room was quiet as Arthur worked for a minute before coming back up. "You're about six centimetres dilated," he announced.

"Alright," she whispered, closing her eyes to take a deep breath as another contraction hit. "Do you know the diagnostic spells?" she asked Arthur.

"Most, yes," he smiled at her reassuringly. "Would you feel better if you guided me through them?"

She nodded, and she did. For the next ten minutes they worked together quietly, and were on one of the final spells from the first set they were to administer when Draco spoke.

"Where the hell is Healer Johnson?" he snapped, glaring at the floo.

Although it had been little more than ten minutes since the Healers had been owled, Hermione couldn't help feeling some of Draco's concern. Her concern intensified as another, more intense contraction hit her, leaving her breathless by the time it passed.

She hadn't noticed when Snape had left, but he returned with a vial of familiar pain potion she'd seen administered to many a witch in labor. She cursed her lack of experience in the maternity ward, wishing she'd begun her apprenticeship before the birth rate had dropped to nearly nothing.

"It may be too late-" she started, but Snape silenced her with a look and forced it into her hands.

She gulped down the green liquid, cringing it its bitter taste. She felt a trickle of relief enveloping her body, but she knew that it was not nearly enough when another contraction hit her.

"Are you comfortable?" Kingsley asked from behind her where he continued to cradle her head, and she nodded, grateful for the cool, wet cloth that he had materialized to pat her head with.

"Arthur, can you-" she stopped short as she saw that the man was already ducking beneath her dress again, looking concerned at the increased pace of her contractions.

"I need the spell as well," she said, looking up at no one in particular. "I needed more time for the potion to work fully."

She was surprised when Lucius crossed over to her. "I believe I may be able to administer it myself," he said, looking at her as he waited for her approval. She nodded gratefully, then flushed as Kingsley shifted so that he could lift her dress to expose her back, leaving Arthur's head between her legs as her only cover. Lucius muttered the spell and performed its accompanying wand movements expertly, and her pain was soon reduced to a dull throbbing as the next contraction came upon her.

Lucius righted her dress just as Arthur withdrew his head from between her legs. "9 centimetres," he said, eyes wide.

"What does that mean?" Draco asked, eyes flying between Hermione and Arthur's panicked expressions.

"It means that the child is coming now, you dunderhead." Surprisingly, the words hadn't come from Snape, but Sirius, who had started pacing in front of the floo. "Where the hell are the blasted healers?"

"Bugger the healers," Harry snapped, stepping closer to her to pull her thigh nearest him wide, albeit gently.

"Harry!" she shouted, snatching her hand from Draco's grip so that she could cover herself before Harry pulled up her dress.

Draco scoffed from beside her. "It's nothing we haven't all seen before. Spread 'em - this child waits for no one."

She gave him a light smack for his blunt language, but resignedly allowed them to move her hands and pull up her dress until it was bunched under her bosom.

When the next contraction hit, she forgot about propriety altogether. "Unnghh!" she grunted, determined not to scream. This resolution went out the window, too, when the next contraction hit not a minute later and she screamed until her lungs burned.

Kingsley began whispering soothing words into her ear, running the cloth over her face and chest as she shuddered through the aftershocks of pain.

"I can't do this!" she cried after the third contraction in a row only increased in intensity. It was as if she'd never taken the potion or had the spell administered - the second a contraction hit, her world dissolved into a single pinprick of pain, allowing her only a moment's reprieve before dragging her under again.

"You'll have to start pushing soon," Arthur said, looking up at her. "It's alright, we're almost there." He squeezed her thigh reassuringly.

She managed a weak nod, reaching out to squeeze the hand nearest her when another contraction hit and she pushed along with it. She hadn't realized Lucius hadn't yet left her side, and was surprised when she looked up to see him looking down at her once she let go. His fingers were twisted unnaturally, and she wondered briefly if she'd broken them before another contraction hit and he was taking her hand again, letting her squeeze the life out of it once more.

"Oh gods what _is_ that?!" Neville squeaked.

"He's crowning!" Arthur said excitedly, and Sirius immediately ducked down to get a closer look.

"Jesus, 'Mione, there's a head sticking out of your-"

"Shut up, Harry!" she screamed out as another contraction hit.

Neville was swaying unsteadily beside Harry. "I think I'm going to be sick," he wheezed, taking deep breaths.

"Don't you dare, Longbottom!" Draco seethed from beside her, yelping when she squeezed his hand as another contraction hit.

"Push, Hermione!" Arthur urged, and she did. The strength of her scream took her breath away, and she felt Kingsley wiping away tears she hadn't realized had fallen.

"You can do this, love," Kingsley whispered, kissing her softly on her forehead.

She nodded mutely before breathing deeply.

"Again," Sirius urged. Just beyond him, Neville fainted dead away, only for Snape to reenervate him with an angry flick of his wand.

She pushed again, screaming until it felt like her lugs would burst.

"Come on, love," Sirius urged, kissing her foot gently from where he kneeled. "You can do this!"

At that moment, the Floo roared to life and a small, portly older man waddled into the room. Hermione recognized him as the Malfoys' personal healer. "M-Mister Malfoy," the man stuttered. "I a-a-apologize for the de-delay, I-"

"MY WIFE IS ABOUT TO GIVE BIRTH ON A DAMNED SOFA!" Draco thundered from beside her. "Stop your sputtering and get over here, _now_!"

"Shh," she tried to calm him. "He's here now, that's all that matters," she whispered, wondering how much time had passed. It felt like it had been an eternity, but she knew that it had likely been less than a half hour since they'd been sitting quietly at dinner.

Lucius had taken up her hand again, and she felt the tension in his stance, knowing he yearned to ream the man out as his son had right then and there. He was more composed than his son, but she didn't doubt that he was giving the healer a murderous look considering the way the man cowered as he looked in Lucius' direction.

She was exhausted, so exhausted, and she felt her eyes slipping closed for a moment before Healer Johnson muttered an incantation that sent a sudden burst of energy pulsing through her veins.

"Please push when I tell you, Mrs. Malfoy," he encouraged gently, a beacon of calamity in the frenzy of energy her husbands emitted.

"Push," he said, and she bore down with all her strength. "Again!" he encouraged. After this push, the room was suddenly filled with a noise that was not her own, and she realized with a shock that it was the baby's cries. Her baby's cries.

"One more push!" Healer Johnson begged, and she did.

She watched in awe as he raised the baby up so she could see him muttering a series of spells to clean it off and sever the umbilical cord. It wailed all the while, almost in sync with Hermione's sobs of joy. She didn't care about the noise it made - to her, it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"My baby," she sobbed, reaching out as the Healer summoned a blanket and swaddled it expertly.

Healer Johnson smiled down at her as he handed her the bundle. "Congratulations, Mrs. Malfoy," he said. "You have a daughter."

She blinked, then burst into tears again. _A daughter_!

She held her baby girl for a few minutes while Healer Johnson moved about her, casting various diagnostics and post-birth healing spells. "Let's get you to St. Mungo's now, shall we?"

 **X**

Their arrival at St. Mungo's was rather uneventful, and she was whisked to large suite similar to the one she had been in on her last visit while they tended to her baby in a bassinet near her bed. She couldn't take her eyes off the child, and snapped at whoever stepped in the way to block her view until they gave up and rolled the bassinet right up beside her, where she could easily reach out and touch her daughter.

"So, who's the daddy?" Sirius asked casually once the second round of healers had left them.

The baby had a full head of soft blonde hair that Hermione couldn't help stroking, entranced by the infant's soft coos.

Draco scoffed. "She's obviously a Malfoy, isn't she?" he looked smug and awestruck at once, and she watched as he let the infant clutch delicately at one of his fingers.

"So tiny…" Harry whispered, poking at one of the baby's exposed feet.

"She might not be," Hermione mused quietly. "I was born blonde, you know."

Harry and Neville's eyes lit up at this, and Neville leaned down to give her a soft kiss on the forehead. Her eyes strayed over to Snape, who sat in an ornate armchair near Lucius, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

"Who do you reckon she looks like?" Neville asked, peering down at her.

"She barely even looks like a person now, let alone-" Hermione cut Harry's words with a glare, and he snapped his mouth shut.

"She is my daughter and she looks perfect," she cooed, brushing her fingertip across the baby's cheek. She turned into her mother's touch, and yawned slightly before blinking open her eyes.

One thing that Hermione had read in the book on pregnancy for muggle-born witches was that when muggle babies are born, their eye color usually appears blue or grey, and changes to its proper color over time. For magical babies, however, the effect is quite different. A fully magical baby's eyes would be an intensely vibrant shade of a parent's eyes, that would dull to a normal vibrancy after a few weeks.

Thus, when Hermione's newborn daughter opened her eyes and they shone a brilliant black, there was no mistaking exactly who her father was.

There were several sharp intakes of breath from around the bassinet as the men gathered around it came to the same conclusion she had, and their eyes flew from the baby, to her, and then finally, to Snape, who stared back at them, looking quite affronted.

"What?" he snapped.

"You…" Draco started. "You defiled a portrait...with _him?_ " His mouth hung open as he continued to look between her and his godfather.

She flushed deeply at the reminder of her wedding night tryst with her ex-professor.

"Congratulations," Lucius drawled, watching as Snape stood slowly and crossed the room.

The throng around the bassinet parted to let him step up to where his daughter lay, fussing slightly as she continued to adjust to life outside of the womb. He peered down at her, and Hermione peered up at him, trying and failing to read his expression.

"I'd like to name her Emma, if you don't mind," she whispered, stroking their daughter's cheek. "Emma Rose Snape."

He looked up at her, then back at their daughter briefly before he turned and exited the room with a flourish, letting the door click shut behind him.

* * *

She's finally here! What do you all think? Anyone else excited that it's Snape's? This was a short one, I know, but 15 will be up soon I hope!


	15. Chapter 15

**Sorry for the long delay! Over the past couple of weeks, I've had some exciting things come up at work, and I've been working very hard at them. It's been great in my daily life, but unfortunately means that I've fallen behind on my writing a bit. One part of the new and exciting stuff happening is that I'm going to be traveling quite a bit, and it's expected to continue into early/mid-March. I'm doing my best to write ahead during the free time I can find now, so that I'll be able to edit and release chapters weekly or bi-weekly until things go back to normal. So far, I've only written up to 17, but I will keep you all updated on my pacing and I hope that I don't leave you all hanging for too long. As always, you can find me on tumblr as blankfishxx and Facebook as Blank Fish, where I'll continue to post chapter previews/updates on my progress while I'm traveling. Thank you all for your patience!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

"Do excuse me," Lucius was the one who broke the stunned silence, exiting the room after Snape.

Hermione, overwhelmed with emotion for her daughter and egged on by lingering pregnancy hormones, promptly burst into tears once the door shut behind him. It had taken many caresses and words of comfort from her husbands to get her to calm down, and she only stopped crying altogether when Emma started crying herself, seeming to have caught on to her mother's distress.

"He's a right bastard, that one," Harry said once she'd reduced to hiccups. "You owe him nothing," he assured her, all the while glaring darkly at the door Snape had disappeared through.

"The biggest prick we know," Sirius assured her.

"You don't need him when you have us," Neville said. "And Emma is a beautiful name, even if he won't admit it."

Draco nodded in agreement, and lifted her hand to his lips to kiss it gently. "I love you," he reminded her.

Hermione still couldn't speak over the lump in her throat. He'd hurt her so badly with barely a look. She looked down at their daughter, wondering how he could ever look at such a beautiful, perfect thing with anything but love and adoration in his eyes.

The moment was broken by the entrance of Healer Browne, who looked at her tear stained face worriedly. "Are you alright, Healer Granger? Any lingering pain, or-?"

She shook her head while Harry answered for her. "She's fine," he said. "Just a little overwhelmed."

"If you're certain," the healer said, waiting until she nodded. "Congratulations, Healer Granger. Your baby is doing very well. She may still have some lingering growing pains from her rapid development in the womb, but rest assured that she will grow normally now that she has been born."

Hermione and her husbands nodded, and she gave Emma a worried look, lamenting the idea that her child would have to experience any pain at all.

"Now," Healer Browne continued as summoned a stool from where it was tucked in a corner and sat down at the end of the bed, "I know that all the requisite postnatal tests have been administered, but I am here to administer the spells mandated by the marriage law. These spells are designed to right you again, after all your body has been through with the accelerated pregnancy. Some parts will feel uncomfortable, and others will be downright painful, but once I've finished your body will be almost entirely back in the state it was prior to your pregnancy. Let me know if anything feels out of place, though, alright?"

Hermione nodded, then swallowed nervously as she found her feet being placed in stirrups. Healer Browne ducked her head under the sheet covering Hermione's legs, then mumbled an incantation that was foreign to Hermione's ears. She felt a wisp of cool air between her thighs, and the woman stood up and began waving her wand in intricate circles over Hermione's now empty, but still protruding belly. She watched in amazement as it began shrinking slowly. It wasn't quite a painful feeling, but it was as deeply uncomfortable as having ones skin pulled and prodded at a tad too tightly.

When her stomach had shrunk to a small bump, Healer Browne tapped it once and she cried out, feeling a distinct snap within herself as her organs seemed to pull themselves back into place. Neville immediately squeezed her hand in alarm.

"Are you alright?" Healer Browne asked, looking up at her.

"Fine," she squeaked. Her now-flat abdomen was still throbbing from the pressure, but she forced a reassuring smile to all the men around her.

Healer Browne nodded and returned to between Hermione's legs, where she muttered a spell that gave her a burning sensation for a few uncomfortable seconds before she stood up and announced that she was finished. "All looks well," Healer Browne smiled at her. "Would you like to find out who the father is?"

Hermione cringed slightly at the reminder. "We've, uh, already figured it out. Severus Snape, is it not?" she said sadly.

Healer Browne waved her wand and a small plaque appeared on the side of Emma's bassinet. The name field was blank, but it read that Hermione and Snape were indeed the child's parents.

"Have you chosen a name?" Healer Browne asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Emma. Emma Rose Snape." Healer Browne waved her wand at the plaque, and Emma's full name appeared.

"Congratulations again on the birth of your daughter," Healer Browne said fondly. "Let's get you discharged now, shall we?"

 **X**

"She's perfect," Draco cooed, tickling Emma's foot. "So tiny and just...perfect." Hermione smiled at this, and leaned over to kiss Emma's cheek.

They were lying on her bed, facing each other with Emma laying between them. She was but a week old, but Hermione swore she could already see features in her that favored both of her parents. Currently, she was lying awake, looking at nothing in particular as she kicked her little limbs fiercely.

"How are you feeling?" Draco asked, looking up at her.

"I'm okay, Draco," she promised, smiling although she knew it didn't meet her eyes. Emma was exactly seven days old, marking seven days since she'd last seen Severus Snape. She knew he was in the Manor, likely holed up in the dungeons as he was required to be living there by law, but it still felt as though he wasn't there at all.

"He'll come around," Draco reassured her.

She nodded, not believing for a second that he would. He'd been very clear about his resentment towards the law, and towards her. But their daughter...no, she hadn't anticipated that he could treat his own daughter like this. She'd spent many a night since the birth watching Emma in her crib with tears in her eyes, wondering if he would hold out the resentment he felt towards his daughter as long as he had held out his resentment towards Sirius and Harry.

She felt a lump rising in her throat at the prospect of her daughter growing up in the same home as her father, knowing she was completely unwanted.

"Hermione," Draco tore her out of her thoughts. "It will be alright. I promise you." Indeed, his eyes shone with sincerity.

She nodded and went back to looking at Emma, marveling at her child's innocence and the fierce sense of protectiveness that rose within her at the thought of any harm befalling her child.

"I'd underestimated it," she said softly as she stroked Emma's hair.

"Underestimated what?" Draco asked.

"A mother's love," she whispered. "It's-it's everything, Draco. _She's_ everything. I would die for her, over and over, in a heartbeat. This feeling…it's overwhelming."

He nodded, looking pensive.

"It's how she feels about you," Hermione said, looking at him. She knew she didn't need to say Narcissa's name aloud for him to catch her meaning.

"Is it?" his voice sounded sad and empty.

"Draco…" she reached up from stroking Emma's hair to stroke his. "All she's ever wanted was for you to be safe."

He scoffed at that.

"I'm serious," she insisted. "We...we argued because she was angry that I didn't take you with me."

He finally looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

She swallowed. "She...in the drawing room-" Draco inhaled sharply at the memory, but she continued on. "-she saw the way you looked at me, and she must have figured it out, and she was angry, so angry that she couldn't save you that she blamed me for not trying."

He sat up quickly, gaping slightly. "I would _never_ have expected you to-"

"I know," she reassured him. "There was just so much going on and she was desperate to save you. You know about Snape's Vow, don't you?"

He nodded.

"She did it all because she loves you, more than anything." She looked down at Emma's innocent face again. "She would have done anything, to protect you, will still do- oh, gods!" She sat up suddenly, clapping her hands over her face in shame.

"What is it?" Draco asked, scooping Emma up into his arms before scooting closer to her. "What's wrong?"

"I called her a bitch," she whispered. "I get it now, but I was so angry then, and I couldn't hold back-I've never called _anyone_ a bitch before!" The word even felt nasty coming out of her mouth as she repeated it to Draco.

Draco burst out laughing. "That's what you're upset about? It's alright, Granger," he said when he sobered. "She still had no right to send you into distress the way she did."

Hermione looked up at him and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm still sorry," she said. "I could have censored myself, even a little."

Draco snorted. "I'm sure she took it in stride. She's Narcissa Malfoy - her reputation precedes her. Besides, you're probably fiercest opponent she's ever had. She was livid that night."

"You met with her that night?" As she asked her question, she recalled finding him in the main sitting room of her and Lucius' suites when she'd returned from Kingsley's rooms that evening.

He nodded, his face darkening. "The three of us had a… discussion."

"Draco," she took his free hand in hers. "Don't hate them - they love you. More than anything."

He said nothing, but opted to look down at Emma instead of at her. "They could have hurt her, Hermione," he whispered, stroking the infant's cheek as he held her to his chest.

"But she's fine," Hermione promised. She'd had the healers check her three times over to be certain. "She's alright. Don't shut your parents out forever over this," she begged.

He sighed as he caught her pleading expression, and placed Emma back down on the bed before speaking. "My relationship with my parents isn't something that I can just change overnight," he said. "There is so much they've done that I can't explain to you."

"It doesn't mean that you can't try-"

"Yes it does." His voice was hard.

"Draco-"

"I said _no_."

She could see the anger simmering in his grey eyes, but pushed forward anyway. "Draco, these are your parents. Every decision they've made, even the bad ones, they always kept your health and well being in mind, even in the bad times-"

"'Even in the bad times'?" he spat sarcastically. "Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth, Granger? You bloody Gryffindors, always so optimistic about every damned thing-"

"I was just-"

"You were just what? Trying to make my life and my relationship with my parents out to be something that it clearly isn't?"

"Draco, I know you have many reasons to resent them-"

"Resent them? _Resent_? Do you have _any_ idea-"

"I do understand Draco, I do, but maybe we don't know everything, why they did what they did and their reasons for it-"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Granger? You start fucking him and all of a sudden everything he's done has been forgiven?"

She recoiled at his harsh language. "No, Draco! All I am saying is that maybe we don't know everything, maybe there's more to all of this than we thought." She cringed internally at her words, knowing that she sounded ridiculous, standing in the home she'd once been tortured in because of the choices the very person they were speaking of had made. She wanted to tell him about her conversation with Kingsley, about her suspicions about Lucius, but knew she could not tell him - that he would never believe her - until she knew more.

"What I know is that I was groomed to be a Death Eater, ordered to do awful things, forced to leave the woman I love behind all for a cause I never asked to be a part of!"

Her heart broke at the anguish in his eyes. "Draco-"

"Stop trying to justify things for them! They bred me to _hate_ your kind, or have you forgotten? Just because you grew up in a perfectly happy little home doesn't mean that you understand what it was like for those who never had that. Your parents have always done everything they could to make your life into the perfect little sheltered box it has become." He was seething with anger now, and his eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at her.

She flinched at the mention of her parents. "Don't talk about them," she whispered, feeling a lump rise in her throat at the thought of them.

"Then don't try and presume you have any say over things that never concerned you," Draco snapped. He stood up abruptly and stormed out of the room, letting the door slam behind him.

 **X**

Late one afternoon, Hermione was sitting on the floor of Emma's nursery with her, watching a charmed caterpillar slither playfully around her little body when a knock came at the door.

"Come in!" she said, pretending that a part of her didn't deflate a little when she saw that it was Sirius. "Hullo, Sirius," she said, smiling at him.

"How's she doing?" he nodded at Emma. He'd insisted on staying up with her the entire night last night after Emma had had a particularly restless night.

"She's doing well," Hermione said. "She slept for eight hours straight after you left this morning and I must admit that I napped beside her for most of that time," she laughed.

It had been gruelling since her daughter had been born, but all of her husbands had chipped in to help wherever they could. Even Lucius had entered her room on more than one occasion to tend to the child, wordlessly plucking her from Hermione's fingers as he summoned elves to help attend to the child as needed. He hadn't been subtle with his pushing Pinky on her, and she'd eventually given in to the elf's help, knowing there was no way she'd be able to keep up her momentum of semi-independence once she'd had more children.

"And you?" he asked. He crossed the room and sat down cross legged beside her, looking as at ease as ever. He seemed lighter these days, and she'd happily noticed that his flask had started making less appearances after she'd urged him to talk to Harry about how he'd been feeling since he'd been back, although she knew that he still kept it hidden in the folds of his robes.

"I'll be okay," she reassured him as she had her other husbands who'd inquired.

"You're just like her, you know," he said, looking at her.

"Hmm?" she asked, smiling down at Emma as the caterpillar stopped to tickle her feet.

"Lily," he said quietly, turning to look out the nursery's windows that faced the Manor's gardens. "You're just like Lily."

"Lily _Potter_?" she asked, baffled at the thought of being compared to her deceased mother-in-law. " _How_?"

Sirius chuckled at her reaction. "In many more ways than you'd think. Sharp witted, intelligent, beautiful, fiercely independent…"

She flushed at his compliments.

"It's true. You are so much more like her than he'd like to admit."

Her heart flip flopped at this statement. "You mean-?"

"Yes, Snape. He loved her, you know." She nodded. She hadn't realized he'd known, but then of course he had - who would have known better than someone who'd had years to observe them? "He loved her more than anything, and he'd probably resigned himself to a life of solitude after she passed."

She swallowed, and nodded again. She imagined the years he'd spent lamenting his tragic loss of the one person he'd loved more than anything.

"He hasn't had an easy life," Sirius said. "I...I was part of the reason why. We tormented him, for years. And then he watched one of his tormentors win the heart of the woman he loved."

"Why did you…" Hermione asked, meeting Sirius' grey eyes. They were filled with remorse.

"At first, I suppose it was because he was an easy target. He was...well, who he is, and yet he was best friends with the most beautiful girl in school. She was kind and gentle, and he was not. Then, he befriended future Death Eaters and we knew that he sympathized with their cause and it made made even less sense. We were angry, and we were at odds with him the entire time we were at Hogwarts. No, he wasn't all good, but we were horrible to him and it made us no better." He sighed, looking down at Emma.

Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand.

"I don't know if he intended to live out the war," he said sadly.

Hermione felt a tear spill from her eye as she imagined the hardships Snape must have endured throughout his life.

"And now he's been thrust back into a life he didn't want, married to a woman whom he'd only ever known as his student, and he's being forced to have a child with her. He doesn't know how to navigate any of this, Hermione," he said quietly. "And now Emma is here and she's his and you're his, too. His hopes of ever having a wife and child died with Lily, and now you're here, trying to get through to him. He doesn't know how to handle it, any of it. We might not have been friends, but I can tell well enough that he's warring in his mind with this new life that's been thrust upon him and he just needs time."

They sat in silence after he finished, watching the charmed caterpillar give Emma soft nudges with its nose. Hermione said nothing, still absorbing all the information that had been given to her.

After a while, Sirius kissed her cheek gently and stood to leave. "It might not hurt to give him a little nudge, though," he threw over his shoulder as he walked out.

 **X**

She gave him twelve days.

On the morning of the thirteenth day, Hermione decided to retrieve Emma from her nursery and go down to the dungeons, determined to refuse to leave until he spoke to her.

She stopped short once she entered the nursery, however, startled to see a familiar black-robed figure standing over their daughter's crib. She watched him quietly for a moment. He did not move, but stood looking down at Emma, the black of his robes contrasted sharply against the glowing white canopy that floated around Emma's crib, billowing softly in an invisible wind.

"Hullo, Severus," she said softly, the name still feeling foreign on her lips despite her having used it several times before.

The man said nothing, although she thought she spied a tension in his shoulders at the sound of her voice.

"Severus," she said again, stepping closer to him, although still remaining a reasonable distance away from him. "Can we talk?"

Still, he said nothing, and remained unmoving by the crib.

"Please-" she tried again, only for him to cut her off.

"If I wanted to speak with you," his voice was low, yet carried easily across the room. "I would have sought you out."

"I just want to try-"

"We have no duty to 'try' anything," he cut her off again. "Any duties we had to each other have now been fulfilled, and I no longer have a requirement of your presence in my affairs."

"We are still bound, still required to live together-"

"And we are nothing beyond that," he clipped.

"And what about her?" she asked. "What about Emma?"

He was silent again.

"Were you always this cold to her, too?" Her voice was quiet, but she knew he heard her anyway. She didn't know if he knew who she was speaking of, but was nonetheless met with the satisfaction of having him turn around to face her.

In the soft morning light drifting through the nursery's windows, the glare on his face was unmistakable.

"How dare you-"

"How dare I?!" she whisper-shouted, eyes swinging to where their daughter slept peacefully. "How dare _I_? How dare _you_ treat your daughter like she is some sort of a mista-"

"That is because-"

"Don't you dare!" she stalked forward until she was nearly touching him, glaring up into his black eyes. "Don't you ever dare disrespect our daughter in any way because I will not stand for it. If you did not care for her, then why are you here now?"

They glared at each other for a long beat before she spoke again.

"It's been nearly two decades since she's been gone," Hermione said, watching his sharp intake of breath at her words. "She is gone, and I know that the love you carry for her will last until the day you die. But your daughter" - she forced her gaze away from his to look over at Emma's face that was still peaceful in sleep - " _our_ daughter needs you now. She needs to know her father, to love her father, and be loved in return. Don't you think that Lily wou-"

"Do not dare mention her name to me," his voice was a dark whisper. "You will never earn the right."

She ignored the pang in her chest at his words. "You are capable of love, Severus. I know you are. You loved her then, and you can love Emma now. You need not let me in - but please do not shut her out."

She whirled and exited the room, leaving her daughter with her father, all the while wondering if he would even bother to stay.

* * *

 **This was a more serious/emotional chapter, and it meant exploring more of the characters' canon personalities. Don't be too upset with Draco - let's not forget that he is still Draco Malfoy, and he's known to have quite the temper. Reviews make me so happy, I always love to hear your thoughts, constructive criticism, etc. xx**


	16. Chapter 16

**This author's note is going to be a little longer than usual - I know long ones are usually pretty annoying and so I try to keep mine short, but I had a few things I wanted say regardless.**

 **First of all, I wanted to clarify a general plot point. I ended up editing out this specific explanation from chapter six, but the reason that so many women have been paired with men who are related is because similar genetics = similar magical cores = more likely to be paired with the same witch, who is hypothetically equally compatible with several different family members. This is obviously not the case for all, but you'll see a few more mentions of it occurring in this chapter and I wanted to clarify that.**

 **About this chapter - It is a completely Weasley-interaction dedicated chapter, which I know some of you were hoping to get back to because of the difficult dynamics I explored earlier on in the fic. Do keep in mind that I'm not a Ginny basher per se, but I am writing based on how I felt her character would be reacting to these events. Not everyone's going to be taking a law like this in stride, and some are just going to be petty, even it's a little juvenile.**

 **More generally on the progress of this story: I'm done writing 17 through 19, and am halfway through 20! This means that I'll be able to keep up a weekly schedule for at least the next few weeks even though I'll be traveling a lot for work over the next month and a bit. I was worried that I might need to drop down to a bi-weekly schedule, but we're not there yet! On that note, I've occasionally responded to some of you who've inquired about certain plot points and when they'll make an appearance. As I've been writing, my outline has gotten progressively longer and longer, and what I had had planned for 18 has now been stretched out over the course of three chapters. I personally dislike reading stories with chapters much longer than 5,000 or so words in length, so this break up was definitely necessary. 19, for instance, is one verrrrry long scene, but things just turn out that way sometimes, don't they? (: This means that some things I said to look out for in 17, 18, etc. are being pushed to 21 and beyond. I do have a very detailed outline up to 27 or so for now, and a general outline of major plot points for the next ten or so chapters after that. All of that is to say that I'm truly loving writing this fic, and I hope you don't get bored with how much I've been stretching some things out. For now, I want to balance out the fluff and drama before we get into anything slightly angstier.**

 **In other news, I am happy to announce that I also have a very detailed outline for my next fic in place! I most likely won't get around to officially beginning the writing process until sometime in March, but I wanted to give all my Dramione fans something to look forward to. It'll be much darker in tone than ACMI, but for now I can say that it's a Dramione that takes place during the War.**

 **Lastly, I wanted to let you all know that I will eventually be going back to chapters 1-3 and rewriting/reorganizing them at some point in the future. I can't say when for now, but I do want to distance myself from Ten Too Many as much as possible. Although the trope and some of the main plot points are the same, this has very much become my own story past those first few chapters and I want it to reflect that. I'm not happy with the high amount of scene parallels that I wrote, but it's not a pressing issue for now. These changes won't materially affect the direction of the story in any way, but I will announce when I've done it so that those who want to go back and re-read can do so.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Hermione snatched a flute of bubbling green liquid from a floating tray that had paused momentarily between her and Harry's heads before drifting off once more. She quickly gulped down a mouthful of it, and heard Harry do the same with his own glass beside her. The room around them was alight with energy as other wedding guests milled about them, dancing and chatting happily. Hermione spied Luna mingling with guests a few tables away. Her puffy cream-colored wedding robes floated around her, taking up an absurd amount of space, and she had what suspiciously looked like a live bird nesting at the top of the neat pile of curls on her head.

Their table's mood was the complete opposite of the rest of the party, and all of its occupants were sitting silently, stoic as many of its occupants avoided each others' gazes. Their table had a large plaque in the middle that was simply marked "Weasley Family", which, while technically true, felt perverse considering the circumstances.

Currently, Hermione was sitting between Harry and Arthur, with Neville on Arthur's other side. Beside Harry, Dean darted his eyes between Hermione and the table's other occupants, having long since sensed the aura of unease that had settled over the table. Across the table from Hermione and her husbands were various members of the Weasley family and their respective significant others. Luna has undoubtedly thought it fitting to sit the Golden Trio all together with their spouses, and clearly hadn't caught on to the tension between them. Ginny sat quietly beside her mother, who was beside Fred's empty seat. Angelina Johnson sat between Fred and George's empty seats, and was looking around, likely trying to find where her husbands had disappeared off to so that she could join them to escape the awkward table. Ron and Parvati had caught on to the tension as well, and had occasionally shot reassuring smiles to Hermione's side of the large, round table.

Angelina was the one to break the silence. "So, Ginny, I know it's only been a few weeks, but have you found out the sex yet?" she smiled, looking down at where Ginny's stomach was hidden in her robes.

"It's a boy," Ginny replied tonelessly, opting to drink from her glass of pumpkin juice instead of volunteering more information.

"That's lovely, dear," Arthur said affectionately. He smiled over at his daughter, and she gave him a strained smile in return. Hermione wondered when last she had had the chance to visit with Arthur, realizing that Ginny was pregnant with his first grandchild. She caught the pain in Arthur's eyes as he continued to smile at his youngest child, heart panging at the obvious rift in their family.

"Congratulations," Harry and Hermione said in sync. Ginny gave them a small, forced smile, and the table descended into silence once more.

"Molly," Arthur spoke broke the silence once again, "I hear you're expecting as well. Congratulations," he said.

At his words, Molly had looked up, looking slightly startled. "I am," she answered quietly. "I'm about a week along now."

Hermione watched as an unidentifiable emotion passed through Molly's eyes, and she peeked over at Arthur to see the same in his. Hermione felt a deep shame rest heavily on her chest, and she wondered how it must have felt to Molly to announce her eighth pregnancy to someone other than the man she'd been married to for over twenty years. Harry squeezed her thigh, as if sensing her thoughts.

"You alright?" he whispered, and she nodded, giving him a small, grateful smile. She yearned to lean over and kiss him then, but didn't dare to. He smiled back at her, and she knew he wished to do the same.

"How is your baby doing, Hermione? Emily, wasn't it?" It was Molly who caused her and Harry to break their trance, but when she looked up, her eyes met Ginny's burning brown ones. They hadn't done anything, no, but Hermione knew from the way Ginny looked at her that the affection between them had been plain for anyone to see.

Hermione's throat had gone dry, and when she answered Molly her voice cracked slightly. "Emma, actually," she corrected. "She's doing well." She'd left her infant in the care of Sirius and Kingsley for her first evening away from her, and her heart ached each moment as she yearned to return home to her child.

"Snape's, isn't it?" Ginny said, lip curling.

Hermione tensed slightly at her tone. "Yes," she answered simply.

"Your robes are lovely, Hermione," Parvati said, attempting to change the subject.

Hermione blushed lightly, looking down at the silky yellow robes she wore that were adorned with large roses. It was one of the more subdued pieces from her closet, yet she knew that they still looked as though they'd cost a fortune.

"The material is stunning," Angelina added.

"Must be nice," Ginny quipped. Her voice was low, but carried across the table regardless.

Hermione bit back a retort, knowing that while the Notts' accounts paled in comparison to the Malfoys', they were still among the richest families in the Wizarding world. In fact, Ginny's own deep red organza robes looked only slightly less luxurious than Hermione's.

"Ginny," Molly admonished quietly. Ginny ignored her, instead choosing to look over at the other mingling guests disinterestedly.

Before anyone else could attempt more conversation, steaming plates of food appeared before them. Fred and George materialized in their seats not a moment later, planting twin kisses on Angelina's cheeks.

Hermione held her breath, praying that they wouldn't drop any stepmum jokes in that moment. Thankfully, they didn't, and soon they were all eating in silence, although the tension hadn't gone down in the slightest.

She felt a hand on her thigh, and looked up to see Arthur smiling at her. "Relax," he mouthed, running his hand over her thigh until she released some of the tension in her body. She felt eyes on her, and looked up to see half the other occupants of the table observing the exchange.

Arthur removed his hand from her thigh upon noticing the attention they had drawn, but it was already too late. Fred and George looked vaguely amused, while Ron was carefully averting his eyes. Ginny's expression was hard, but Molly…

Molly looked devastated. Her fork was hovering before her lips, steak forgotten. Her eyes were glued to where Arthur's arm had been outstretched, the intimate way he had touched Hermione unmistakable even though the table concealed nearly half their bodies.

Hermione hadn't realized the tension could have gotten any worse, but it had. She felt trapped in Molly's broken gaze, and suffocated under Ginny's glare that emanated from beside her mother. She wanted to assure her that she hadn't meant to take her husband from her, that they hadn't even slept together yet, that it broke her heart, too, for all of this to be happening. But instead she said nothing, knowing that the law had done irreversible damage to them all, and there was nothing she could do to reverse it now. No, she hadn't yet slept with him, but she soon would, and she would bear him children, too. It was as inevitable and as gut-wrenching of a thought as any.

"Ex-excuse me," Hermione mumbled, shoving away from the table and stumbling away. She pushed through crowds of mingling guests, searching for the nearest loo. Spying the large tent's open flaps looming ahead, she stumbled outside instead, gulping in mouthfuls of fresh evening air. The sky was lit by a blanket of twinkling stars, and it was eerily peaceful where they were out in the countryside. She would have normally enjoyed something like this, but her mounting anxiety overrode her other senses.

She didn't hear the other person approach until it was nearly too late, and she whirled on them, wand out and a stunning spell tumbling from her lips.

"Hermione!" Neville made her stop short. "Relax, it's just me." He stepped closer, reaching out to pull her into a hug. "I asked the others to stay inside, considering the circumstances and all," he said.

"Oh gods I'm so sorry," she mumbled into his chest. "I don't know what came over me-"

"Habit?" Neville volunteered, and she nodded into his chest. "It's all a bit much, isn't it?" he said into her hair.

She nodded again, afraid that if she spoke she would burst into sobs.

"I know that you know this, but it is not your fault, no matter what anyone says to convince you otherwise," he said. "It could have been so much worse."

"How can you say that?" she sniffled. "You have to live with your boggart for the rest of your life."

Neville chucked. "I do, but I also get to live with you." She could feel him smiling into her hair. "But truthfully...Hermione…" he hesitated, and she pulled back to look at him.

"What is it?" she asked, searching his eyes.

"My gran…" he started again. "My gran, she sits on the Wizengamot, you know. And… she's told me some things. About the law, I mean."

Hermione froze. "What kinds of things?" She wondered if he knew about the volatile magic, wondering if it scared him as much as it scared her.

"They…" he swallowed. "They were considering taking...taking prisoners from Azkaban, to help with the repopulation," he said, eyes downcast.

Hermione gasped. " _What?_ "

Neville nodded, looking solemn. "They were desperate, and they thought that adding the prisoners to the pool was a necessary evil. Gran helped veto the idea, and they even capped the amount of partners at 10. It would have been higher, what with how many Death Eaters have been imprisoned and whatnot," he added.

Hermione was at a loss for words. Yes, she'd been assigned three Death Eaters herself, but they were all _former_ Death Eaters, likely even including Lucius. She shivered at the thought of being required to procreate with one of the animals that had been locked up, still filled with prejudices and hate.

He pulled her into a hug again. "I care for you," he kissed her hair. "So much."

She sighed happily into his chest, grateful that he hadn't said he loved her just yet. "I care for you, too, Neville," she said, leaning up to kiss him.

He kissed her back, gently deepening the kiss until she wound her arms around his neck, immersing herself in him.

Neville was the first to pull back. "We should get back inside. The others are probably getting worried." As he spoke, he continued to run his hands gently over her sides until she relaxed under his touch.

"We should, shouldn't we?" She gave him another peck before turning to head back inside.

They entered the tent to find the dance floor now filled with guests dancing to the strange music the goblin band played. She spotted Luna swaying happily with Gregory Goyle, who looked incredibly large and awkward next to his new wife. Luna had only been assigned six husbands, and of the others she could only spot the elder Goyle, sitting quietly at the main table, watching the festivities.

Neville pulled her into the crowd and looped his hands around her waist, bobbing to the odd music. He looked awkward and gangly and he tried to find a rhythm that clearly wasn't there, but made silly faces at her until she laughed and joined him. Eventually, the band retreated and regular music began drifting through the room from hidden speakers. They melted into a smooth, slower rhythm, and she was soon leaning her head against Neville's chest, eyes closed as they swayed together.

They were interrupted by a throat clearing and a hand tapping on her shoulder. They looked up to see Arthur standing beside them. "Do you mind if I...?" he asked, and Neville melted into the crowd before she could protest.

Arthur pulled her close and began swaying with her, despite the way she stiffened. "Hermione," he said, looking down at her. "There's nothing we could have done," he reminded her.

"I-I know, but still, I don't want to-"

"Shh," he said, kissing her gently on the forehead. "None of them saw that," he chuckled lightly, scanning the bodies pressed around them.

"I'm sorry Arthur, I know it must be hard for you, too," she said, searching his green eyes.

He smiled sadly. "It hasn't been the easiest transition, but I'm getting on the best I can," he said. "I hope you are, too." he added sincerely, searching her eyes.

She looked away, thinking of the various burdens she'd faced since the law had been announced. "I'm…" she hesitated. She spied Harry in the crowd just beyond them, laughing heartily with Dean and Seamus. No, it hadn't been all bad so far, but it hadn't been all good, either.

"Trying your best?" he said knowingly.

"Trying my best," she agreed.

"Shall we go home a little early?"

She was about to suggest saying goodbye to Luna when the words died on her lips. The bride was now dancing nearby in the arms of another of her husbands, Marcus Flint. Hermione smiled at the way the Slytherin man seemed to be melting under the woman's gaze, and she wondered if some of it wasn't just due to the bonding magic. She doubted the woman would notice if they left early.

"Let's go," she agreed.

 **X**

She Apparated them directly into Arthur's rooms, and he looked around them, surprised.

"It's your night, Arthur," she said softly. She shifted awkwardly, realizing that there was no more delaying of the inevitable. They'd taken very slow steps as they accustomed themselves to their newfound intimacy, but they were still nowhere near ready for what they had to do that night. She felt sick, knowing that she'd had to face Molly all night, and now she had returned home only to sleep with the only man truly wanted.

"Hermione," he whispered, stepping close and tilting her chin up until she looked at him. He kissed away the single, salty tear that had fallen down her cheek. "Sit with me," he said, pulling her to one of the plush chaise lounges in his sitting room.

"Molly and I…" he started. "I need you to know that Molly and I's relationship has...changed, over the years."

Hermione looked at him, puzzled.

"I haven't lain with her in more than two years," he explained.

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly. "Two years? I don't understand, you always seemed so in l-" she stopped short, unable to bring herself to say the last word.

"We always had a deep affection for one another, and that has never changed," he agreed. "I loved her. She was my wife. I still love her. But…"

Hermione took up his hand in hers, feeling how difficult this conversation was for him.

He squeezed her hand gratefully. "I...during the war, it felt as though there was no time for fleeting things such as physical intimacy. There wasn't a moment that we didn't worry about what was going to happen to us, to our children…" his voice broke. "And then, we almost lost Fred, and we spent all of our time caring for him, and I thought that maybe we could start anew, bring back what we had as youths now that the worst of times were past us. But then...then we lost Bill, and...as a parent, there's just some heartbreak that time will never heal." His voice sounded haunted, saturated with the pain of his loss.

Hermione's heart stuttered at the thought of losing Emma. "Oh, Arthur," she whispered, leaning over to hug him.

He accepted the hug, and kissed her shoulder. "After our scare with Ginny, and everything we went through together, our relationship became something beyond marriage. She was my companion, the person I could go to for everything, and we needed each other. But our attachment, it ceased being romantic long ago. It has been difficult being separated from the woman I loved so, but do not mistake her heartbreak being about the loss of her husband. It is more about the loss of the one person who understands her, and everything we've been through. It is difficult now, but I will show her that we can return to a place where we can return to the companionship we once had, even if it isn't as husband and wife."

Hermione nodded slowly, wiping away the tears that had fallen. "Thank you for sharing that with me," she whispered.

He smiled, then leaned forward, kissing her cheek, then chin, then lips as he always had.

She pulled back after a moment to look into his eyes again. "I'm still sorry," she said softly.

"I know, Hermione. As well as you know that you have nothing to be sorry for," he said.

She nodded, giving him a soft smile. She swallowed nervously as she recalled why they were sitting there, and what they had been obligated to do that night.

"Don't think," he kissed her softly. "Just feel." He kissed her until she became pliant under his touch, snaking his tongue forward until she granted him access to her mouth. He deepened the kiss, and she slid towards him until she was able to swing a leg over his lap, straddling him.

She moaned as she rolled her hips in his lap, grinding slowly against his hardening cock. Usually, she would stop after he came, and if she hadn't come before him, he would insist on rubbing her clothed clit with practiced precision until she came undone. They hadn't yet ventured further than that, and her heart stuttered at the idea of what they were about to do.

He pulled away suddenly, causing her to flutter her eyelids open as she was dangled on the edge of her release. "I can't...yet," he explained, flushing slightly. "Shall we move to the bedroom?"

She nodded and stood, her rising trepidation taking over the throbbing need between her legs. She followed him into his bedroom, looking fearfully at his massive canopied bed.

He turned to face her, catching her expression. "Hermione," he said softly. "Look at me," he urged.

She met his kindly green eyes, knowing her brown ones were full of emotion. He leaned down to kiss her again, then whispered a quiet ' _Nox'_ as he moved to kiss her neck, plunging them into darkness. "Better?"

She nodded into the kiss, grateful that he seemed to understand her so well.

His hand stopped over the tie of her robe. "May I?" he asked, and she nodded before realizing he couldn't see her.

"You may," she said softly, and felt him tug at the tie and let the robes pool to the floor, revealing the long cream-colored dress she wore beneath. He pulled her close again and kissed her deeply, moaning as she pressed herself closer to him.

She let him inch up her dress until he pulled it over her head, leaving her in the simple lingerie set she wore beneath. Her skin tingled as he ran gentle fingers over her exposed skin, moving them across her stomach, thighs, arms, neck…

By the time he pulled her into another kiss, her skin felt like it was aflame, aching for his touch. She reached up, and undid the tie of his dress robes slowly, pushing them down to run her hands over the dress shirt he wore beneath. He helped her unbutton it, and she allowed her hands to explore his exposed chest in the dark, enjoying the soft yet firm feel of him. When she reached for his trousers, her hands began to tremble, and she had only undone his belt when he tugged her shaking hands away from him.

"Let's get under the covers instead, shall we?" he said, kissing her forehead before stepped away from her completely. He didn't wait for her to answer, but she heard the rustle of fabric as he divested himself of the rest of his clothing.

She heard him pad over to the bed and slip under the sheets, and she took a deep breath before she stripped off her underwear, crossed the room, and slipped under the sheets herself. She slid close until their sides were touching, and she could feel his warm, bare skin pressed against hers.

"Don't think," he whispered his earlier words into the darkness. "Just feel."

She took a deep breath and steeled herself before reaching out a tentative hand to touch his thigh. He tensed slightly under her touch, then relaxed as she ran her hand up and down his naked skin. She let her hand inch forward until she felt the thick, wiry patch of his pubic hair under her fingers, and she let herself revel in the feel of him twitching slightly under her touch as his breath quickened. She let her hand stray down further, and ghosted her fingers across his cock. He was mostly hard, and he hardened further as she curled her fist around him, pumping it gently. His cock was shorter than she'd become accustomed to with her other husbands, but where it fell short in length it made up for in girth. He was thick, enough so that her fingertip did not reach her thumb as she tried to close her hand around him. She continued pumping him, stopping only to pull down his foreskin lightly and lift her thumb to let it swirl through the bit of precome that leaked from his tip.

He moaned at that, and she repeated the action. He startled her when she felt his hand stray over her skin, only to rest upon her mons and start rubbing slow circles around her clit. She was still wet, and his fingers glided over her clit easily until she was bucking into his fingers while increasing her fisting of his cock.

"Hermione," he broke the silence, still panting. "You have to-I'm going to-" he covered her hand to stop her insistent fisting of his cock.

"Oh," she whispered, glad he couldn't see her flush. "Are you, erm, ready then? How should I-" His fingers still rested on her clit, and she was throbbing with need while feeling nervous all at once.

"Do you want to-? Or should I just-" He fumbled over the words, and she wondered if his heart was hammering as much as hers was.

"Maybe you better, uhm..." she trailed off, hoping he caught her meaning.

Thankfully, he did. He rolled over until he was braced above her, supported on his elbows. She reached up to kiss him, sensing his hesitation. "It's alright, Arthur," she whispered.

He ducked his head down and nodded into the crook of her neck before she felt him lining himself up at her entrance. She hooked her legs around his waist in encouragement, and he slid in slowly until he was buried to the hilt. They both moaned at their intimate joining, and she wrapped her legs around him tighter to encourage him to start moving.

She moaned as he found a rhythm, hitting her most sensitive spots. She pulled him closer until his body was resting almost completely against hers, focusing on the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of her and his warm body resting atop hers.

He turned to kiss her, and she kissed him back slowly in return, pulling away only to moan loudly only before dragging him back again for more. Their coupling was slow and sweet, and she savored every moment of it. When he sped up, she tightened around him, feeling his cock empty into her as his movements became more stuttered.

He rolled off of her, panting hard, and she curled into his side, satisfied. She gasped when she felt him hitch one of her legs over his hip only to dip his fingers into her wet heat again, curling them just so until she came, grinding her clit against his hip. Once she'd caught her breath again, she leaned up to kiss him once more, whispering a soft _thank you_ against his lips. They drifted off to sleep shortly afterward, still wrapped in one anothers' comforting embrace.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed the Arthur scene! I know it's difficult to think about, so I tried my best to make it as lovingly awkward but still sweet as possible. I also wanted to mention that I really mean it when I say I read and cherish every. single. one. of your comments. I practically live for them in my writing at this point, and although I might not always find the time to reply to you all, I read absolutely everything. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this one!**

 **Also, you can always check my social media at blankfishxx (tumblr) and Blank Fish on Facebook. The pages are public so no need to add me or anything, but I love interacting with you and getting asks, etc. (:  
**


	17. Chapter 17

**As of this chapter, this fic is now being beta'd by the lovely RESimon! She's been amazing so far, and thank you again to all who sent in their interest in being my beta. Also, a small note on a little hiccup in chapter 15 - I got a few questions about the missing Quidditch cribs, and realized that I uploaded the wrong version of 15 that I'd uploaded in ffn's doc manager before making a final tweak - I've now added the line explaining that she convinced them to save the cribs for their firstborns. Sorry about the confusion!  
**

 **Also, we're now past the 60,000 word count which means this fic is officially novel-length. There are approximately 25 more chapters to go, so lots more story to tell. Thank you to all who have been following so far!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Hermione walked out onto the grounds of Malfoy Manor, still awed by the beauty of the extensive grounds despite having lived there for months. She crossed the main courtyard and ventured into the gardens, passing row upon row of vibrantly colored exotic flowers, moving toward the large, sprawling fountain-an ostentatious display of mermaids and regal-looking sea creatures. Draco sat with Emma at the base of the fountain, two charmed birds twirling over the infant's head. He was cooing happily at her, making faces and nuzzling her occasionally.

She watched them from afar for a moment with a small smile on her lips. "Draco," she called. As he looked up, the mirth dropped from his face instantly and he tucked Emma into his chest.

"Granger," he responded flatly.

They had barely spoken since their row, and she almost wanted to laugh at how eerily their actions paralleled the explosive fights and breakups they'd had during their fifth year at Hogwarts. They'd stubbornly refused to speak to one another since their argument, and the times they'd been due to sleep together since had been nothing short of disastrous. On their first night, they'd begun bickering immediately, eventually ending with her lying naked and spread-eagle on his bed, unmoving as she stubbornly ignored him. This had done nothing to get him in the mood, and he'd had to resort to fisting his cock until he was hard before finishing inside of her. The second time, she'd deliberately worn one of the most scandalous pieces of lingerie she could find in her closet, refusing to let him touch her before she laid back on the bed, spread-eagled again. This had prompted him to mutter something about her acting like "a damned dead fish", which lead to more bickering and him fisting himself to near completion once again since he had resolutely refused to apologize, even though it meant denying himself sex with his wife while she was wearing nothing but a few straps of shiny latex.

Simply put, even during their marital obligations, things had been nothing short of frosty between them.

She sighed, sitting down next to him. She reached out for Emma, but the infant squirmed indignantly as soon as she touched her, leaving Draco to flash her a triumphant smile.

"She's fine with me," he said. "You'll need to pump a few more bottles for her for this afternoon - I'd like to take her out walking in muggle London."

"Actually, Harry and Sirius wanted to take her to visit Andromeda and Teddy this afternoon," she said. "And...I was hoping you'd accompany me somewhere," she added softly.

He arched an eyebrow at her.

"I give in. Satisfied?" She sighed, exasperated.

"No," he responded simply. "Where are we going?"

 **X**

She Apparated them to a small alleyway in Diagon Alley, tugging the hood of her large, black cloak around her face and gesturing for Draco to do the same. He followed her as she wound through the throngs of people milling about, passing a series of shops before she dragged him down another, more cramped alleyway. She knew without looking back that he'd raised his eyebrows to his hairline when he noticed that she'd turned into Knockturn Alley.

She pulled him along more quickly, ensuring that she kept her head ducked down from prying eyes now that there were fewer others on the street besides them. She turned sharply into a cramped alley, leading him up a small set of stairs that were nearly hidden by the large stone wall they were built into. It rapidly became clear she had taken this path many times before as her feet guided her along without much effort. At the top of the steps, she muttered a password that dissolved the flat stone entrance to reveal a small alcove that contained only a small wooden door. Hermione rapped at the door twice in quick succession, then once, and the door swung open for them. She pulled Draco into a small room where an elderly witch sat on a short stool across from them, staring into the fire that burned in the hearth beside her.

"Don't stare," she mumbled to Draco before the woman turned to appraise them. One side of her face looked relatively normal aside from being weathered by age. The other side, however, was mangled with scars that Hermione suspected were from a werewolf's claws, although she hadn't dared to ask. She had a glass eye that moved slightly slower than her real one, giving her a decidedly creepy vibe.

The woman said nothing but looked from her to Draco questioningly. "This is my husband," Hermione explained, crossing the room and transfiguring the stool across from the woman into a bench where they could both sit. Draco slid in beside her quietly, and she knew he was bursting with questions.

When she rolled up the sleeve of her scarred arm and presented it to the woman, she heard a sharp intake of breath and felt Draco silently grip her thigh tightly a second later, as though he was too shocked to voice his questions.

"It's alright, Draco," she said softly. "This is Corinna. She's been...healing me, for a while now," she explained.

"Granger…" he said softly, watching as the woman raised her wand as she muttered foreign words and began tracing it lightly over the word sketched into Hermione's arm. She winced as light black wisps of smoke began rising from the ' _M'_ , siphoned carefully by Corinna until she dropped the residue lightly into a bowl beside her.

"Cursed wounds," Hermione explained, punctuating her words with a cringe as Corinna started on the next letter, "Require careful healing strategies that aren't always the most...conventional," she explained, sighing as Corinna finished with the ' _u'_.

"This is dark magic, isn't it?" Draco whispered, and she nodded.

"I thought you'd understand," she whispered, turning to search her husband's eyes.

"Of course I do," he nodded, his eyes still trained on the wisps of the curse that Corinna siphoned out of her wound. "How long have you been coming here for?"

"Nearly a year now," she said. "Dealing with cursed wounds is a delicate process that even St. Mungos' most advanced healers won't touch. I was lucky to find Corinna. She's managed to contain the curse to the wounds themselves, and now she has to coax it out. It'll be a long while still before it's gone completely, but I'm just happy to know that I'll be rid of it one day."

They lapsed into silence, watching Corinna work. He squeezed her hand reassuringly when the pain cut deep, and she squeezed back gratefully.

"I try to be good, and always do good," she said. "But sometimes, the lines get blurred." They watched as Corinna finished the final _d_ , then muttered an incantation before the wound began to glow a deep grey.

"It used to be black," she said, reassuring him as she caught the look in his eye. Hermione dropped a pouch of coins on a small side table, leaving the elderly woman to stare back at the crackling fire. They left quietly and were soon ducking out of both Knockturn and Diagon Alleys. Before long they were strolling down a quaint muggle street, hoods down now that they were free from the watchful eyes of the Wizarding world.

"I'm so sorry," he said, lifting her hand to kiss it gently as he pulled her to sit next to him on a stone bench.

"It's alright, Draco," she gave him a quick kiss. "Time heals all wounds, even the cursed ones," she added quietly, searching his eyes.

His eyes darkened as he caught her meaning. "Granger-"

"I'm not asking you to do anything. I just...I want you to know that I'm sorry. And you're right - my" - she hesitated, unable to bring herself to say the word _parents_ \- "upbringing was very different from yours. But I want you to know that I want to understand, someday, even if I don't right now."

"How can you, Granger?" he said with a faraway look in his eyes. "How can you possibly begin to understand what's happened between me and them?"

"I'm not asking you to talk right now, Draco. Not to me, or to them. But I'm here to tell you that I'm ready to listen, ready to try and understand your perspective of things."

"You can't understand it. Any of it," he said. "They pushed me to despise your kind with everything I had. And now…"

She took his hand, rubbing comforting circles over it with her thumb.

"And now…" he continued. "Now it means nothing, nothing at all. My family has spent generations ingraining hatred of all muggleborns in us, and this hatred that was bred among all pureblood lines lead to us quite literally extinguishing ourselves. I gave you up, Granger. I gave you up for their cause, and where did it leave us?"

"None of that matters anymore, though. It left us here, Draco, as husband and wife-"

"No, it didn't, Granger! It left us in a jumbled mess, on the brink of extinction. Now all pureblooded lines have ended in one fell swoop, and it was all for naught. I agonized over you, not a year ago. And for what? Nothing can give me back all that time I spent away from you when I should have been there, protecting you from things like this," he said, running a hand over her covered forearm.

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words, knowing the pain that laced his expression was beyond what she could take away with soothing words.

"It was a tragic level of hatred that brought our society to where it is now, and pure luck that I ended up with you as my wife anyway," he said. "If things weren't so mucked up now, I probably would have had to read about your wedding to Potter in the paper. And that - _that_ is because of what they did to me, forced in me because they were too filled with hate to pay attention to what I really wanted." She heard his voice break on the last words, and she wrapped her arms around him. He rarely displayed any emotion at all, and her heart broke for him.

He was quiet but eventually leaned into her.

"I love you, Draco," she whispered, looking into his eyes. It was the first time she'd said it in years, and her heart was full to bursting with the feeling. "I love you, with all I have," she said.

He didn't respond but held her tightly to him all the same.

 **X**

It was darkening into evening when Hermione returned to the Manor after the first shift she'd managed to get since Emma's birth, entering the dining room just as the others had seated themselves.

Emma was sitting on Neville' lap, gurgling happily as he bounced her. Hermione made a beeline for her daughter, scooping the infant up and raining kisses all over her downy blonde hair and face. "Mummy missed you," she cooed, smiling widely as her daughter smiled back. Hermione walked her over to the nearest empty chair, looking up to see most of the men in the room watching her with bemused expressions on their faces.

"What?" she asked, flushing at the attention.

Neville smiled. "You're just a great mum, is all," he said, looking fondly at Emma.

Hermione ducked her head as she flushed deeper, and kissed Emma's hair again, looking down to meet her daughter's wide black eyes. She looked around the room, pleased to see that even Kingsley and Harry were present this evening, despite their slowly increasing work hours, which had them missing many dinners of late.

Dinner was a quiet affair and passed quickly with minimal conversation. Emma fell asleep quickly after Hermione fed her under her discreet nursing robes, and Pinky had taken her away to bed quickly afterward.

Eventually, the dinner plates disappeared, and Hermione looked up, puzzled after a long minute passed without any dessert plates appearing before them. She looked up to find several of her husbands looking at her with bemused expressions on their faces.

"You seem to have forgotten something," Sirius quipped, his grey eyes dancing with mirth.

Hermione blinked back at him, puzzled.

"Honestly Hermione!" Harry joked, looking exasperated. "Come on," he smiled, pulling her up to follow him out of the room.

He pulled her down the hall to the drawing room, and several of her other husbands followed them in. Her puzzlement turned to surprise when she spotted the large, elaborately decorated cake sitting on a table in front of her, emblazoned with the words "Happy Birthday Hermione!" in sparkling letters that glowed with the light of the candles surrounding them.

"Happy Birthday!" Several of the men chorused, laughing at her expression. Truthfully, she had forgotten, having been completely wrapped up in her new life and Emma to notice the time passing by.

Arthur reached for her hand from where he stood beside her, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. "Happy Birthday," he repeated softly.

She smiled widely back at him and turned to smile gratefully at the rest of the men in the room. "Thank you all," she said. "Truly." She saw Draco ghost past the open doors, stopping briefly to nod at her and give her a small smile before leaving. She knew he had no desire to join in on the festivities with a band of Gryffindors, and she made no move to ask him to join.

She joined in on their chatter and laughter as they ate slices of cake, reflecting on the feeling that bubbled up within her. On her last birthday, they'd still been deep in dealing with the plague and there had been no time for celebration. In the year following, her time had been spent dealing with the aftereffects of plague, taking her NEWTs by correspondence (among convincing Harry and Ron to do the same), completing her apprenticeship, and researching resolutions for the population crisis. She'd had little time to focus on herself at all, let alone to remember her birthday. Now, she was already twenty years old, although time had flown by in a blur since a few months shy of her eighteenth birthday.

She was content, she realized. Truly content, more content than she'd felt in the months since the law had been announced. When she smiled, it was genuine, filled with the gratitude as she was reminded that she had husbands who had done their utmost to make the transition as easy as possible for her. It seemed as though those efforts were paying off and almost as though they were coming together for their first celebration as a family. When Kingsley presented her with a small, beautifully wrapped gift, she felt tears pricking at her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning over the small box in her hands.

"It's from us," Harry smiled.

" _Most_ of us," Sirius added pointedly.

Hermione nodded, smiling as she opened it to reveal a small blue velvet box. She flipped it open and gasped at what she saw inside.

"Godric," she breathed. Inside was a wedding band completely adorned with a row of sparkling diamonds that were only slightly more modestly sized than the one on her wedding ring. The box was lit from within, and it showcased the diamonds glittering with the same ethereal array of colors that the large diamond on her wedding ring did.

"May I?" Arthur asked plucking the ring from its box. She nodded, still awestruck by its beauty. She watched as he slipped it over her finger, then intertwined his fingers with hers, watching as the colors in her rings shifted to match the seafoam green of the jewels that studded his own wedding band. "Since you are muggleborn, we thought it fitting that you participate in the tradition of wearing a wedding band as well," he explained, smiling at her expression.

"Thank you," she said, lifting her hand and watching the glittering diamonds catching the light. "This is...stunning," she murmured, entranced.

"Glad you like it, 'Mione," Harry said, chuckling at her expression.

The sound of footsteps echoing down the hall drifted towards them, and Hermione snapped her head towards the sound, just catching Snape as he passed by the sprawling doors at the drawing-room entrance, his black robes billowing behind him.

"Excuse me," she said quickly, rushing after him. She caught up to him in the Entrance Hall, grabbing his arm before he could reach the entrance to the dungeons.

"Wait, please," she asked when he froze at her touch.

Before she could speak again, he whirled on her, snatching his arm away. She stumbled backward, unprepared for his sudden movement, and found herself tumbling to the floor.

"I believe I asked you to cease all familiarities with me," he seethed down at her.

"I-"

Before she could speak, she was cut off by a hard, angry voice from behind her. "You are an irredeemable bastard," Harry's voice was low and dark.

"I care not what an insolent child thinks of me," Snape spat back at him.

"Just leave him alone, Harry," Hermione pleaded.

"No!" Harry shouted. "I need to know why he insists on treating you like garbage when you've done absolutely nothing to deserve any of it!"

"He didn't ask for this, Harry," she said quietly. "He didn't ask for any of it."

"Stop standing up for him!" Harry thundered. "You should have let him die!"

And there it was. The thing that had been looming in the back of her mind since Sirius mentioned that he'd thought Snape hadn't intended to survive the war. She'd told herself that she would never bring it up again because she hadn't wanted anything in return for what she'd done. But now, looking up at the quiet rage that was brewing behind Snape's dark eyes, she was immediately submerged in memories of that night, of her urging Harry and Ron to go while she attempted to ebb the flow of blood from his body while simultaneously siphoning out the venom from his wound. Crouching over his frail body as she rushed through all the healing knowledge she'd studied nonstop throughout the time they'd spent in hiding, knowing that none of her preparations measured up to the feeling of acute desperation she'd felt to save his life in that moment.

Hermione's heart began hammering in her chest as she swept her eyes between the pseudo-standoff occurring between Harry and Snape. There were hands on her sides, and she vaguely registered that someone was helping her up from the floor.

"Harry-" Sirius started from behind her, but Harry cut him off before he could finish.

"No! He deserves it!" Harry snapped, glaring daggers at Snape. "She stayed behind, risked _her_ life for no other reason than to save yours and this is how you repay her?!"

"I never asked to be saved! I didn't _want_ her to save me! She did it selfishly to assuage her own guilt, and I am expected to be _thankful_ for that?" Severus thundered, black eyes brimming with rage.

"Yes! Yes, you are because you were almost murdered and she saved your damned life!" Harry was trembling with anger now and looked as though he were ready to throttle the older wizard. Hermione wasn't certain that he wouldn't. "She saved you, she saved you from a horrible death, and now she's given birth to your child. Your child, Snape! Not a stray rat that we brought up from the dungeons - although, with the way you treat her, I'm not certain that you know the difference."

Severus whipped out his wand with blinding speed. Harry pulled out his own nearly as fast, and they stood with their wands leveled at each other, shooting each other murderous glares. "Do not speak to me of my child," Severus seethed.

"Now you acknowledge her?" Harry spat. "You've barely seen her since she was born, but now she's _your_ child?"

Severus shot out a spell, which Harry barely deflected before Severus turned and stalked off down the hall. Harry shot a spell at his back, which the man casually deflected.

"My mother would despise the man you've become!" Harry shouted after him.

Severus paused mid-step, and Hermione held her breath, terrified that Harry had gone too far, that Severus would not miss this time, would hit him with something much more permanent than what he'd sent before-

But the man simply stalked off, disappearing around the corner before Harry could say anything else.

"Damn him! Damn him and damn all of this!" Harry screamed into the empty hall, arms outstretched as he swept them around the room in a grand gesture.

"Harry, stop!" Sirius warned, stepping closer to him.

"No!" Harry was bursting with rage, and Hermione shrank back under the force of it even though it wasn't directed towards her. "This-this farce we've been putting on can't continue like this!"

"Harry," Arthur's spoke. "We agreed that this was best-"

"What?" Hermione said, looking confusedly around the room to see the rest of her husbands had followed them out of the drawing room behind Sirius.

"Best for whom, exactly?" Harry snapped. "He treats her like dung, pregnant or not! We've tried this fake act of peace when we have nothing of the sort!"

"Harry…" Kingsley's voice was soft, yet firm.

"It's all bollocks! This law, what she has to suffer through, all of it!"

"Harry?" she asked quietly.

"I hate that you had to give birth to that bastard's child because you know damn well he doesn't deserve you, and I am sick of pretending that things are alright when they aren't!"

He disappeared with a loud _crack_ of Apparition, leaving Hermione and the others in speechless silence.

"Excuse me, love," Sirius said sadly, Apparating away after Harry.

"You agreed that what was best?" she asked Arthur quietly, watching as he and Kingsley exchanged a look.

"We met, early on, and decided to try…" Arthur trailed off, frowning sadly at the look on her face as she took in his words. "Hermione…" he reached out and took her hand in his, rubbing it softly.

"We thought it best if we put away our grievances and put on as much of a united front as possible," Kingsley explained, frowning as he took in her crestfallen expression.

"Oh," she whispered.

But of course. The feigned harmony they'd fallen into was false, having been borne out of the circumstances they'd fallen into. She'd ignored the undercurrent of tension that ran amongst them, opting instead to focus on the progress her new family had made, on the interactions they'd had with her instead of the frigid ones they'd had with each other.

But no, of course, it wasn't progress - it was a messy situation that they had been thrust into. The false pretenses of peace they'd made up served as well as band-aids would support a broken vase. She'd allowed herself to ignore the churning mass of conflicting personalities and interests she had been thrown into, instead reveling in their pseudo-family dinners, and tense pleasantries in the halls. How could she have been so stupid, so blind? Of course, it had all been for her benefit. She'd been ignoring the warning signs all along. Her heart ached for husbands, and what they'd endured for months. Harry, living with Lucius, a man he despised. Neville, living with his boggart. Draco, trapped in his own home, living with people who had hated him until barely a year prior…

She looked at Arthur, wondering how he'd managed to stay so strong while his family had been ripped apart. And Kingsley, who was supposed to be uniting force behind their society, living in such a broken home.

"Oh," she said, her voice breaking. She looked down at the rings that now seemed to glitter mockingly at her in the soft light the flames in the fireplace threw at it. She looked at the two men in front of her once more before Apparating away.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed that chapter! I know it was bit of a doozy emotionally, especially because things had been seeming to go so well so far. Can't forget that this is all being seen from Hermione's perspective, after all - I know the revelation that she was seeing everything through rose-colored glasses was a bit jarring.**

 **As always, you can find me on tumblr as blankfishxx and on Facebook as Blank Fish. Chapter 18 will be up next week, and as usual a preview will be up on social media sometime before it's posted. Thank you all for your support, and do drop your thoughts in the reviews if you feel so inclined - I welcome all thoughts and opinions, and your support really keeps me motivated!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you to RESimon for volunteering your beta skills - you're the best!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

She sat on her bed for hours, twisting the overly large diamond on her finger around and around, watching the enchanted colors within throw out glittering beams of light in the muted moonlight floating through her tall windows. Whenever she accidentally moves it even a fraction too high, a sharp pain shoots up her hand, reminding her of how perversely cruel her situation was. It could only be removed at the acquiescence of all eight of her husbands, and, even if she were to manage to get them to agree, the Ministry would be informed instantaneously. She was bound and branded by the law, unable to escape its clutches.

She found herself unable to cry this time, simply feeling hollow and empty inside. She had nothing left to give, and thus nothing came out of her. She knew that she'd been stretched thin, too thin, and left feeling like butter spread over too much bread. She heard the doors to her rooms open and close, then the door to her bedroom a moment later. She did not move, did not acknowledge the presence that had entered. She hadn't the slightest idea who it was but also decided that she didn't care.

"Hermione," Harry's voice was soft, remorseful.

She didn't answer, hoping that he would take her silence as an indication to leave.

But he was Harry, after all, so she was forced to listen to his footsteps shuffle across the room until he was sitting next to her on the bed, facing her. He was close enough to touch her if he wished, but also further than he would have normally been as if he could sense the waves of tension radiating off of her.

"Leave," she said after a few minutes of silence.

"'Mione," he started.

"You had no right!" she said lowly, finally turning to look at him.

"I know, I'm-"

"Do you?" she spat out a derisive laugh as she looked down at the rings again. "Do you now?" she repeated, twisting them this way and that more quickly than before, letting them flit through their array of vibrant colors.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you. I only wanted to stand up for you, to make him understand," he pleaded. He reached out and caught her hand in his, letting the rings shift to a rich, molten gold.

She snatched her hand away. "He's her father! Her _father_ and you've pushed him away, even further than he already was!" Hermione felt her lip tremble as she said the words, but she was determined not to let him hear it in her voice. "She's barely a month old now, Harry. Barely a month, and how many times has he seen her?" she held up a hand, then folded a finger back into her palm.

"Hermione-"

"NO!" She snapped, glaring him down. "You don't get to hide behind your apologies this time. It isn't about you!" She placed her face in her hands and sighing before pushing them back into her hair and staring down at her lap.

"But I was right, he-"

"That doesn't matter!" she shouted, running a frustrated hand through her hair before throwing them up, exasperated. "It doesn't matter because it is _my_ battle to fight, my argument to chose to have or not have, and you took that choice away from me. I'm not some frail child that you can just order about, Harry. I spent seven years standing behind you, chasing after your demons with you, fighting with you, fighting _for_ you. I think I've earned the right to expect the same from you, as my husband."

He was quiet for a long while. "I never meant to hurt you, Hermione," he said quietly. "I'll be here for you, always. In whatever capacity you need."

"He's not perfect," she started after another protracted silence. "He's not perfect, and he is often cruel. But Emma...he's her father, and that's what matters right now. I just don't need anything - or anyone - else complicating her relationship with her father right now."

"You did the right thing, 'Mione," Harry said softly. "I-I know you. You wouldn't have been able to live with yourself if you had let him go."

She nodded mutely, still haunted by the rage that had been behind Severus' dark eyes.

 **X**

The weeks bled into months, and soon the Manor's grounds were covered in a thick layer of snow as the Christmas holidays came and went.

Christmas was a quiet affair, and she spent it quietly celebrating with most of her husbands. The palpable tension hadn't abated since her birthday celebration, but most of them had tried their best to make her and Emma feel as content and cared for as they could. They had melted into a routine, where she would spend her time with Emma or occasionally taking shifts at St. Mungo's when she could, while her husbands would work or tend to their estates. She no longer broached the subject of his parents to Draco, and they'd fallen easily back into their routine, finding what time they could to rekindle the relationship they'd once had. It had taken several days of not speaking, but eventually, she had forgiven Harry his outburst. She and Harry had slowly fallen more comfortably into their new relationship, and he spent as much time as Draco did doting on her and reminding her of his affection. Sirius was as charming - and forward - as ever, and although Kingsley, Neville, and Arthur were not as forward as he was, they were caring and kind and treated her well.

She rarely saw Severus, save for the few occasions where she'd caught him disappearing into the dungeons. Lucius mostly ignored her and had taken to having his meals mostly brought to his study or his rooms, seldom entering the dining room to dine with them. This meant she rarely saw him either, save for when she found herself in his bed weekly, where he would always take her fast from behind, and she would exit quickly thereafter.

Hermione sat with Emma on the floor of her closet, smiling as she watched her little girl try to crawl into one of the open glass-doored cabinets. After unsuccessfully trying to pull herself up several times, she began pawing at the dress nearest her in concentration until it suddenly billowed towards her with a small burst of magic. She squealed in delight as she finally tugged it down and began rolling in the material, making her mother laugh fondly.

A knock on her bedroom door interrupted them. "Come in!" she called out, and soon turned to find Neville entering the closet. He smiled down at her and leaned casually against one of the glass cabinets next to Emma, waving at her. Emma giggled and mimicked his movement before turning back to play in the clothes she'd dragged to the ground. Hermione's heart swelled at their interaction, once again reminded of how fortunate she was that Emma had so many loving stepfathers.

"Hey," Neville smiled down at her again, and she rose to kiss him, lingering longer than was strictly necessary as she let her hands roam the hard planes of his abdomen. They broke apart when they heard a giggle erupt from below them, and looked down to see Emma smiling up at them, clapping happily. They laughed with her, and Hermione gave him another quick peck.

"Emma has got to be the happiest baby I've ever met," Neville remarked, watching the child roll around in Hermione's expensive clothing.

"Isn't she?" Hermione said fondly.

"Listen, I, uh," Neville scratched the back of his head awkwardly, shuffling his feet. "Well, we're married you see, and…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"What is it?" she asked, perplexed. "Is there something wrong?"

"Not exactly, I just… I know you don't have much time..." he looked around the room as he stumbled over his words, and she followed his eyes until hers landed on the seldom-used room on the second floor of her closet.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking at the room and then at him. "Did you want to-?" she gestured to the upper level of her closet, at the room where they'd consummated their marriage. "I have some time, I'll just get Pinky to take Emma-"

"What-? No!" he said quickly as he caught her meaning, flushing deeply. "No, it's not that! Well, maybe it is that, but not in that way, at least."

She furrowed her brow, feeling thoroughly confused. "I'm not quite following," she said.

"I...we're married, Hermione," Neville said, finally meeting her eyes. "And that" - he gestured to where they'd made love for the first time - "is great and all, fantastic really, but I want you to know that I want you, too. Beyond that, I mean. I know you haven't had much time, what with Emma and the, uh, others, and all, but I still want to try. Just being _with_ you, I mean."

"Oh, Neville," she said softly. She thought of all the dates she'd gone on with Harry and Draco in her short amounts of spare time, and the rest of the time she'd filled with tending to Emma or fitting in shifts at St. Mungo's while they would let her. "I'm so sorry, Neville. There's been so much going on, and… I never meant to let you fall to the sidelines, truly," she said quietly.

Neville smiled and kissed her softly. "I know, Hermione. I just wanted to remind you that I'm here and that I want you as much as they do."

She smiled back, grateful that he'd been so patient and understanding all these months, despite the fact that it must have been maddening. The last time she'd spent time with him alone outside of his bed was when his gran had come by for an awkward hour of tea, where the elderly witch had proceeded to stare down at her for fifteen minutes of silence before pronouncing a long list of improvements she could make to her lifestyle before ending the hour by deeming her satisfactory for her grandson.

"I'm free tonight," she announced, smiling up at him.

 **X**

After entrusting Emma to Pinky for the evening, Hermione spent several hours getting ready for her date with Neville. The better part of that time was spent using several bottles of Sleekeazy's combined with more than a few well-placed charms until her hair fell in a straight, silky sheet down her back. She applied heavier makeup than she was used to, and stood in the mirror for a long while, pondering if her dark, smokey eye makeup and deep red lip bordered on too much.

He'd told her he was taking her somewhere in the muggle world, so she ventured into the part of her closet that held an array of elegant muggle outfits. She fingered a long-sleeved velvet dress, flushing as she plucked it off its hanger only to find that it plunged dangerously low in the front. As a result, she didn't know why she'd paused in front of the next dress, which was decidedly more scandalous.

"Neville deserves this," she muttered, dropping her robe to the ground and pulling on the dress on before she lost her nerve. She stepped in front of one of the tall mirrors scattered around her closet, letting her jaw drop slightly at what she saw. The dress was a strapless red satin number that clung wickedly to every inch of her body, leaving nothing to the imagination.

She'd felt self-conscious about how she'd gotten slightly heavier in the hips and thighs since she'd given birth to Emma, and although her husbands had been quite the opposite of disappointed about it, she'd still taken care to conceal her new curves. Now, though, they were on complete display, along with her ample bosom. She'd been gifted with full breasts that she'd thought were appropriate for her petite frame with only slight curves, but now that she was breastfeeding they had swollen in size. She usually felt comical in her post-birth body, but in this moment, she felt...beautiful. She twisted and turned, admiring the ample cleavage and incredible shape the dress gave her, down to the daring slit that cut dangerously high on her thigh.

In all, she looked decidedly unlike herself, but she felt that it was entirely fitting for the occasion. After charming a pair of stilettos until they would basically do the work for her, she was ready to leave. She popped in to check on Emma one last time before leaving, only to find the toddler wailing loudly from her crib while Pinky and another elf tried to soothe her.

The elves jumped at her entrance, looking ashamed as they saw her take in the scene before them. "Mistress!" Pinky cried, slapping herself in the head. "We tries everything, Mistress, we is feeling sorry, so very-" Hermione snatched Pinky's small wrist before she could hit herself again.

"We've talked about this, Pinky!" Hermione said softly. "She's just a baby - it is not your fault. And you had better not go ironing your ears again - Knobby will tell me," she scolded, looking between the two sniffling elves. She didn't let go of the elf's wrist until she nodded weakly.

Hermione smiled at her, then picked Emma up from her crib before carrying the crying infant downstairs.

"I'll be just a moment," she apologized to Neville when she saw him waiting patiently in the entrance hall, looking devilishly handsome in his white button down and black slacks.

She rushed into the dining room, finding Harry just as he sat down for dinner. "Harry, I have to go, but can you-" she held out the crying infant in her arms, looking at him expectantly. Instead of plucking Emma from her arms and doing his little dance with her that always seemed to calm her down, however, Harry gaped at her.

She wrinkled her brow, perplexed, before realizing that the room had dropped into dead silence, and all eyes were on her. Or, all over her, to be exact.

She felt a flush rising from her chest as she lingered under their gazes, feeling exposed when Harry finally plucked Emma from her arms wordlessly, eyes trained on her cleavage while his jaw was dropped slightly open. He was only pulled out of his stupor when Emma abruptly stopped crying and shoved a curious fist into his open mouth, making him sputter as she giggled happily.

Sirius caught her eye and grinned saucily at her, causing her to turn an even deeper shade of red. She turned away from him, only to catch the usually collected Kingsley looking as though he'd like nothing more than to lose control alone with her in that red dress.

"Well-uhm, Neville and I-uh-bye," she stuttered, turning to scurry out of the room, only to hear Sirius' low whistle follow her out, making her flush as she hurried back to the entrance hall.

"Shall we?" she smiled at Neville as he took her in slowly.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to give her a deep kiss. "We shall," he murmured against her lips, before Apparating them away.

They landed in a small alleyway, and he cast a quick warming charm on her before tucking his wand away and pulling her onto the street where a long line of muggles waited in the cold, wearing heavy jackets over their clubwear. They drew curious gazes as they walked by, and Hermione earned more than a few appreciative glances at her revealing outfit. She heard Neville mutter _confundus_ more than a few times as they made their way to the front of the line, and they were soon stepping into a dark, crowded bar, where Latin music played in the background. It was filled with couples moving sensually on the dance floor, and Hermione watched their movements with rapt interest, feeling hypnotized.

"It's part restaurant," he explained, giving his name to a host before guiding her through a small, nearly hidden alcove into a dimly lit restaurant that was filled with couples huddled in small booths, or hunched over little round tables. Coupled with the low ceilings, it had a cozy effect that almost bordered on cramped.

They were soon sliding into a small, nearly hidden booth, and Neville was murmuring something to a waiter, who nodded sharply and melted away.

"I love this," she smiled, observing all the other couples around them. "Romantic, isn't it?"

"That's what I was going for," he smiled, lacing his fingers with hers. Her skin tingled at his touch, and she looked down to see her rings shifting to ruby as their hands connected.

"It'll never get old, huh?" he said, looking at their rings. Their skin was the same shade of bronze, and the low candlelight accented the colors beautifully.

"Mm," she agreed, giving him a soft smile.

"It matches your dress," he noted, letting his eyes linger on her body. "You look...incredible, Hermione," he added as he took her in again.

"I thought I'd put in a good effort for you," she said. "You deserve it," she added, running her thumb over the back of his hand.

"It is greatly appreciated," he said, leaning over to give her a sweet kiss.

"I'm sorry that we can't do this as often as I'd like," he said, nodding at their surroundings.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been giving you the time you deserve," she said sadly, squeezing his hand.

"You've been doing more than enough," he said, squeezing back. "It still feels like a dream, waking up and knowing that I'm married to you. Sharing with the other blokes isn't so bad, knowing that it's you."

Hermione laughed. "You can't really mean that though, Neville," she said. "You can be honest with me. I can't imagine how maddening it would be, sharing you with a bunch of other women."

"I'm serious," he chuckled. "I've always been friendly with most of the others, anyway. It's kind of nice being family with Harry now, in a way. He's a friend that's always around, you know?"

Hermione nodded. "I suppose I never saw it that way," she mused, picturing sharing Neville with Luna and Parvati. "Though I would be jealous quite a lot," she frowned, imagining sleeping in an empty bed most nights, knowing that her husband was with one of her friends down the hall.

He chucked. "'S not so bad, once you get used to it. Most of my time is taken up by studying, anyway, even though it's been by correspondence with Sprout. She's been rather helpful, what with school being out for the year while we get this population thing all sorted. She's only been assigned four men, and she told me that they've done nothing but bore her to tears so far," he explained.

She laughed, remembering that he'd decided to pursue a Herbology mastery. "I'm glad," she smiled at him.

"Malfoy's actually letting me use the gardens for study," he added.

"Really?" she said, genuinely surprised. Lucius barely interacted with any of her other husbands, and she'd always supposed that his generosity extended only as far as letting them reside in his home without much undue inconvenience.

"He's not so bad, actually. Leaves things well enough alone. Even Draco's alright when he's not being a prat," he added, and she laughed.

"To be honest, I'd never thought I'd hear you address Draco by his first name, let alone call him "alright"," she said. "Strange, isn't it?"

He laughed. "Wouldn't be the strangest thing that's happened this year."

"And...Snape?" she asked tentatively, searching his eyes.

"Snape…" he shrugged. "Is Snape, I suppose. Not really around, so I can't really complain much. But for you…" he trailed off.

"I…" she started. "I don't really matter, I suppose. But Emma…" She looked down, determined not to cry. They hadn't spoken since her birthday. She'd only occasionally caught lingering notes of his deep, musky scent in Emma's nursery, or seen his billowing robes flowing behind him as he disappeared into the dungeons.

"I know there's nothing I can say that will make things right between you," Neville started, lifting her hand to give it a quick kiss. "But I can promise that I will try my best to be the best stepfather to Emma."

Hermione smiled. "You're already so amazing to her," she said, smiling at the memory of them together.

"She's...perfect," he said with a twinkle in her eye. "And Gran loves her, too. She's even more anxious to meet her great-grandchildren now," he added with a laugh, and she joined him.

"I'm truly glad you're one of my husbands, Neville," she said, just as the waiter from earlier reappeared with steaming plates of meat and various other dressings, while another waiter hovered behind him with a plate stacked with tortillas. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the food, and they dissolved into an amicable silence as they ate.

"That was delicious," she said when the plates had been cleared.

"Thought you'd like it," he smiled. "Now - shall we?" He nodded towards the alcove they'd entered through, where the soft Latin music continued to drift towards them from the dance floor.

Hermione flushed, recalling the fluid, sensual movements of those she'd seen on the dance floor earlier. "I don't think I'll be able to keep up. I'll make a fool of myself," she said, fiddling with her fingers.

Neville laughed. "Just follow my lead," he said. She looked up to see him standing, holding a hand out to her. She took in his appearance again, raking her eyes over his white button down and black dress slacks, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and showcasing his muscled forearms.

She bit her lip, but nodded all the same, letting him pull her up.

They were soon weaving through the crowded bar towards the dance floor, and Neville twisted her until her back was to his front, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Close your eyes and feel the music," he breathed.

She bit her lip as she felt his stubble tickling against her skin, then let out a small gasp as he began to nuzzle her neck, planting slow kisses against it. He slipped his arms around her, pressing his body closer to hers until she could feel every inch of his body against hers. He started swaying them slowly, and she let her eyes flutter shut as she was drawn in by the intoxicating music coupled with their slow grinding. He started with small movements, guiding her hips against his until she loosened under his touch. They moved like this for a long while, relishing in the feel of each others' bodies as they swayed to the music.

"Mmm," she let out a soft moan as he quickened his pace, following the delicate beats of the music, swaying them side to side. She could feel his cock hardening in his trousers as she melted under his touch, and he groaned satisfactorily as she pressed back into him.

"You are perfect," he groaned into her ear as she swayed against him, teasing him with her movements. She tilted her head and let it roll back against his shoulder. He took the opportunity to plant hot, open-mouthed kisses against her exposed skin.

She twisted suddenly, dragging him down into a kiss. "I need you. Right now," she gasped against his lips when they pulled apart, breathless.

"Can't Apparate here," he mumbled back, stealing another kiss before he started pulling her through the crowd and to the exit. They were back out onto the street in record time, rushing past the long line of muggles until he was pulling her into the alleyway they'd Apparated into earlier.

She shoved him against the wall impatiently, pulling him into a sloppy kiss as she ran her hands over his body hungrily.

"Shouldn't we go-" he started, but she cut him off with a kiss.

"I want you right here, right now," she gasped, tugging at his shirt until the buttons popped off, exposing his bare chest to her. "You're gorgeous," she whispered between kisses, smiling as he moaned at the way she ran her hands over his chest.

She pulled off of him suddenly, pulling out her wand to mutter a quick spell at the alley's entrance.

"What-?" Neville questioned, looking towards where she'd pointed her wand.

"Don't want any muggles interrupting while I'm doing this," she explained, then grinned wickedly as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

His eyes widened a fraction before he groaned, hurriedly helping her undo his trousers. She tugged them down to the tops of his thighs, then promptly took his cock into her mouth.

He groaned loudly as her mouth closed over him. She bobbed her head along his length sloppily, filling the alleyway with lewd, wet sucking noises. She pulled off his cock with a wet pop, only to duck her head so that she could take his bollocks into her mouth, using a hand to continue to pump his length.

He moaned something indecipherable, and she looked up at him through her lashes to see him lolling his head back onto the brick wall he was leaning against, eyes closed and mouth hanging open. He was shuddering under her touch, and she moaned at the sight of his chiseled abdomen heaving with the heavy breaths he took.

She moved back to his cock, mouthing kisses along his length before tonguing gently at his tip.

"Fuck," he gasped. She barely registered what was happening before he was dragging her up and spinning them until her back was against the cool brick wall. He shoved her dress up frantically, pausing when he palmed her mound. His eyes flew open as he felt the bare lips of her quim between the opening that cut through the middle of her lace knickers, stretching from her clit to her arse.

"You deserve it," she explained, smiling naughtily before he groaned, dragging her into a hot kiss. Their tongues fought for dominance even as he rucked up her dress higher before picking her up and letting her wrap her legs around his waist.

He lined his cock up against her opening, rubbing the tip through her wet folds up against her clit. She moaned at his teasing touches, clutching him tighter to her. He chuckled darkly as she ground back against him, yearning for more friction.

"Neville," she moaned, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

He shoved his cock into her at that, and set forth at a brutal pace, fucking her into the wall. She didn't care about the feeling of the brick digging into her back, nor did she care about her loud moans and gasps - she cared only about the feeling of his cock driving into her, dragging in and out of her wet folds in rapid succession. He pressed closer until he could support her with one hand, then took his other hand to rub at her clit until she screamed out in pleasure, shuddering as she came. She squeezed her walls around him, partially to drag out the feeling and partially to bring him there with her.

It didn't take long, and he used both hands to hold her to him as he slammed into her hard, shuddering his climax.

Soon, the only sounds were their heavy breaths as they came down from their high.

She kissed his neck gently, nuzzling in his scent. "You're incredible," she breathed into his neck.

He pulled back from where his head rested against her shoulder, giving her a gentle kiss. He pulled back to let her stand, and she gasped at the feeling of his cock dislodging from her body. He cast a quick _scourgify_ on the parts of her thighs where their combined fluids dripped down. He pressed two digits against her clit before righting her dress for her, smirking as she gasped at the feeling.

"Shall we?" he asked, and she nodded, letting him Apparate them home.

* * *

 **Chapter 19 will be up next week! Do leave a review if you feel so inclined, I love getting them. You can also interact with me on Facebook (Blank Fish) or tumblr (blankfishxx). I know some are shy (like me!) but all PMs, anon asks, etc. are welcome as well! xx**


	19. Chapter 19

**Surprise! Chapter 19 is here a little early for you all (: Thank you to RESimon for being such an amazing beta! You're the best.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER NINETEEN**

They Apparated into the dark and empty entrance hall, and she couldn't help wincing at the loud clicking noises her heels made as they made their way across the marble floors, heading for the grand staircase. She paused, however, at the sight of firelight spilling from an open doorway, and Neville followed her as she made her way over. She peeked into the doorway only to blink in surprise.

Inside the sitting room, Harry and Draco sat in large, plush armchairs in front of the fireplace, having what appeared to be a heated argument, despite the fact that their voices were angry whispers. Emma was cradled in a bundle of quilts in Draco's arms, and he was rocking her gently even as he retorted angrily at Harry over her head.

"-Puddlemere is a team of blithering fools who wouldn't know a bird from a bludger if it hit them in their heads - which is exactly what happened, by the way," Draco whispered angrily.

"Oh, and the Tornadoes are better? They haven't won the cup in-"

Hermione let out a sigh at their antics, and they paused, looking at the newcomers in the doorway. She made a beeline across the room, ignoring her husbands in favor of descending upon Emma. "Helloooo!" she cooed at her daughter as she approached. "Did you have a good time with your step-daddies?"

"Don't you dare!" the two men whisper-shouted at her in unison, stopping her in her tracks.

"We've been trying to get her to sleep for hours!" Harry said, exasperated.

"She wouldn't let me put her down, and cried every time Potter stopped playing peek-a-boo," Draco scowled, even as he gave gentle pets to the blonde curls that peeked out of the bundle of quilts in his arms.

Hermione giggled, bending to give them each a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she said earnestly, blushing as their gazes raked over her chest. She'd momentarily forgotten about her revealing outfit but allowed herself to revel in the appreciative looks her husbands were giving her.

She settled down on a chaise lounge, kicking off her heels and stretching out languidly. She sighed at the instant comfort, having noticed the cushioning charms had begun to wear off, leaving her feet throbbing slightly. "You know, I'm not that tired," she mused, massaging a foot. "Let's do something."

Draco arched an eyebrow, while Harry and Neville shrugged. "Sure," Harry said. "It's Friday anyhow, so why not."

"I'll put Emma to bed," Draco said before Apparating away with a quick pop. He returned a moment later, settling back into the armchair he'd been occupying. He flicked his wand at a drawer across the room, and it opened, letting a small box fly into his outstretched hand.

"Cards, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Well, do you have any better suggestions?" he snapped, opening the box to shuffle the deck.

"Actually, I do," Hermione said, grinning wickedly at a glass decanter filled with expensive-looking dark liquor on the mantle. Her husbands' gazes followed hers with raised eyebrows.

She cast a pregnancy detection spell on herself and smiled happily when no white glow appeared. "I've pumped more than enough for tomorrow, so…" she trailed off, smiling slyly.

Draco smirked. "Let's make this interesting then, shall we?" he waved his wand, and she watched several empty glasses flew across the room and settled on the plush rug between where they sat, only for the liquor to follow shortly after.

"Hogwarts style?" Harry raised an eyebrow, and Draco nodded with a small smirk.

Hermione lowered herself to the floor, smiling eagerly. "Sounds fun," she said, sliding off the chaise and onto the large rug, gesturing for them to follow. They were soon settled in a circle, each with a glass of liquor in hand.

Draco flipped over the first card in the deck, revealing an eight. "Higher or lower, Longbottom?"

Neville frowned for a moment. "Lower," he said finally.

Draco flipped over the next card to reveal a king. "The first loser of the night, not surprising in the least," he smirked. "Drink up."

Neville scowled but took a long sip from his glass nonetheless.

"Let's start you with a dare, why don't we?" Draco said. "I suppose I'll go easy on you - for now. Finish your glass."

Neville looked at the half-full glass with hostility, but downed it quickly nonetheless. "Ergh," he said when his glass was empty, wiping his mouth.

"You dare insult some of the finest scotch you'll ever touch?" Draco said, although his eyes twinkled with amusement at Neville's discomfort.

"Whatever, Malfoy. Pass the deck."

Hermione swallowed nervously as he turned over another eight. "Higher," she said, smiling when she saw that the next card was a ten. She scanned the men, eyes landing on Draco. "Take a sip - a long one," she directed him. Draco raised his glass in a mock salute and did as he was told.

"Truth or dare?" Neville asked.

"Truth."

He pondered for a moment. "Who else did you hook up with at Hogwarts, besides Ron and Malfoy?"

She winced. "I, erm, got McLaggen off once."

Harry and Neville gaped at her, while Draco rolled his eyes. "But you _hate_ him!" Harry exclaimed.

"Well, Draco and I had gotten into a nasty fight and broken up!" she peeked over at the man in question, who shrugged indifferently. "I caught him kissing Pansy after, so I retaliated." She wrinkled her nose at the memory.

"How come no one ever found out?"

"Draco saw us leaving the closet together and figured it out. He _obliviated_ Cormac before he could tell," she explained. Draco snorted at the memory.

Harry blinked. "Well then," he said, wrinkling his nose.

She flushed, snatching the deck up before he could ask her another question. "Higher or lower?" she asked Harry, flipping over a king.

"Lower," he scoffed, then paled when she flipped over an ace.

Hermione smirked as she watched him take a long gulp of his drink. "Take off your top," she smirked wider at his incredulous expression.

"Honestly, Hermione!" he grumbled, pulling off the jumper he wore to reveal that he had on nothing underneath. She smiled wider at the revelation, even as he scowled.

She passed him the deck, letting her eyes sweep appreciatively over his toned torso.

"Higher or lower?" he asked Draco gruffly, slapping down a four.

"Higher," Draco said, scowling when Harry put down a two. He downed the rest of his glass in one gulp, then turned to Harry. "What'll it be, then?"

"Truth, I think," Harry said, pondering for a moment. "Wildest sexual experience?" he asked, then his eyes widened as he looked between Hermione and Draco, realizing what kinds of answers Draco would most likely give.

"Wait, I take that back-" Harry started, but Draco cut him off.

"Too late, Potter," his face was lit up in a sly grin. "Granger once sucked me off in the Potions classroom. Actually, we almost got caught naked in the Astronomy-"

"Draco!" she wailed at the same time that Harry exclaimed "Alright Malfoy!"

Hermione was blushing furiously at the memories of their clandestine meetings all over Hogwarts, avoiding the eyes of the men in the room.

"Weren't you a virgin when we married?" Neville asked, looking between them.

"Barely," Draco raised an eyebrow suggestively, smirking wider as she squirmed.

"Moving on!" she said loudly, gesturing at Draco.

Neville lost the next round, much to Draco's amusement. "I'm curious, Longbottom. Who did you hook up with at Hogwarts?"

Neville shifted awkwardly. "Oh, uhm… Parvati, a few times over the years. Even, uh, Padma, once. Erm, Hannah, once or twice." His ears became pink as he saw the other occupants of the room watching him curiously. "Cho, a few times, too. Lavender. Katie Bell. Daphne Greengrass…"

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Salazar, Longbottom," he said. "You got around quite a bit, didn't you?"

"Honestly, Neville," Hermione teased. "I hadn't suspected." She smiled at the memory of the sensual way he'd danced with her earlier that night, before fucking her expertly in the alleyway.

"Oh, really, Hermione?" Harry smirked. "You went on about his sudden growth spurt for an entire week in fifth year-"

Draco's eyes snapped to her at that.

"We were on a break!" she shot at him, before glaring at Harry. "I don't recall," she sniffed.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do you also not recall how you were completely smitten with Snape until you were sixteen?"

Her jaw dropped. "How the hell did you know that?"

"I'm your best friend!" Harry explained.

"So you admit it then?" Draco asked slyly.

She blushed furiously, realizing she'd outed herself in her outburst. "I do not recall," she said stiffly, knowing her beet red skin exposed all.

" _Snape?_ " Neville asked incredulously.

Draco burst out laughing. "Why him, of all people?" She took a long gulp of her drink, occupying her mouth so that she wouldn't have to answer. She winced at the taste of the bitter liquid coursing down her throat, although still preferring it to her abject embarrassment at having her teenage crush exposed.

" _Snape?_ " Neville asked again, eyes still wide.

"Shut it," she hissed, peeking out the sitting room's open doors as though expecting her brooding husband to be lurking in the hall.

"What was it, exactly, Granger?" Draco mused.

"The seductive way he says ' _turn to page three hundred and ninety-four_?'" Harry teased, lip twitching in amusement.

"Maybe it's all the robes? Certainly leaves a lot to the imagination," Draco mused. "Did it live up to your expectations when he took them off? Or maybe he left them all on, just how you imagined it..."

She was beet red at this point, avoiding all of their eyes.

"Maybe she just likes older men," Neville said thoughtfully.

Harry caught her eyes widening slightly at that. "She does!" he accused, guffawing as she sputtered indignantly.

"Did Dumbledore tickle your fancy, too?" Draco pressed, smirking.

"No!" she shouted. "Not elderly! Just... _mature_." she clarified.

"So you have a silver fox fetish, then?" Draco teased as she buried her face in her hands.

"Full of surprises, isn't she? Harry chortled, only stopping to scowl at her as she hit him with a wandless stinging hex.

"Just flip the card, Neville!" she urged. He smirked before complying. "Lower!" she rushed, barely even checking the card. It was no surprise that she lost, and Neville smiled widely as he watched her take a large sip of her drink.

"What made Snape so fanciable?" he smiled wider at her answering scowl.

She scowled for a long moment longer before answering. "He...his voice," she said, biting her lip as she felt heat gathering between her legs, despite her conscious knowledge of the man he was under that deep baritone which seemed to echo from her mind all the way down to her quim. She scowled again at their incredulous looks. "Couldn't you have just made me strip or something?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at that. "I do suppose Granger's suffered enough Snape questions for one night. How about a new game?" he suggested.

She sat up eagerly at his suggestion. "That sounds wonderful, Draco," she smiled. "What's the new game?"

"Truth or strip," he grinned his signature, wicked grin at her answering scowl.

Harry and Neville chortled at her reaction.

"I can go first if you'd like," he offered.

She scoffed. "As if it matters to you. You have no shame," she said pointedly.

"True," Draco agreed.

"Alright then," Harry said. "How many women have you slept with?"

"Five total," Draco answered instantly. "But only one mattered." He met her eyes seriously, and she couldn't help giving him a small smile.

"How about you, Neville?" Hermione asked.

"Nine," the dark-haired man flushed, answering quietly. "And you?"

"Two," Harry answered.

"Really?" Hermione asked.

Harry gave her an incredulous look. "I spend all my time with you. I think you'd know if there had been anyone else."

She shrugged. "I guess I supposed that there was someone after you and Ginny had broken up," she explained.

"There was - I came home to _you_ every night, Hermione," Harry laughed.

"But we weren't even... _together_ until we were engaged!"

"Most of that time was spent waiting for the right time to ask you out," he said back, smiling at her answering flush.

Draco cleared his throat. "Anyway," he cut in loudly, scowling at their flirtatious banter. "Who's best in bed?" he smirked as he raised a questioning brow at her.

Hermione gaped. "That's not fair!"

"Truth or strip, Granger," he said casually, leering at her skimpy dress.

She blushed, biting her lip as she pondered her options. Before they could object, she quickly transfigured her dress into two halves and reached around to unzip the top half. She let it drop to the floor to reveal the strapless red bustier she wore underneath, which stopped a few inches above her navel.

Draco frowned. "Not fair, Granger," he said, glaring at her clothed bottom half.

"You have more clothing to divest yourself of than I do," she answered innocently. "It's only fair."

He rolled his eyes. "I suppose you'll be rid of it soon, anyway" he mused. She flushed as her husbands stared openly at the cleavage the semi-transparent bustier showed, knowing that her nipples were partially visible beneath its lacy cups.

"What's your favorite position?" she asked Harry.

Harry blushed. "I like it when...you're on top," he answered.

"Favorite place you've done it?" Neville asked.

She pondered for a moment. "The bed, so far. Other places are fun too, but cushioning charms can only do so much sometimes."

"What about you, Neville?" she asked.

"Erm," he cleared his throat. "A closet," he answered vaguely, and she looked up at him in surprise. They exchanged a small smile at his revelation.

"What's your dirtiest kink?" Draco asked Neville, only for the man to immediately strip off his dress shirt, blushing profusely.

"Yours, Harry?" Hermione giggled as he, too, immediately stood up and stripped off his trousers, leaving his pants as his only remaining clothing.

"If I ask, will you strip?" she questioned Draco.

He pondered for a moment. "I suppose I can keep that one between us," he said, pulling off his robes to reveal the shirt and trousers he wore underneath. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, giving her a healthy glimpse of his chiseled chest.

She smiled as she took in the amount of skin her husbands displayed. "Much better," she said quietly, blushing as she realized they'd caught her licking her lips.

"Who was the worst in bed?" Harry asked Draco.

Draco thought for a moment. "Weasley."

The three Gryffindors gaped at him, speechless.

" _Ginny_?" Hermione sputtered.

Draco barked out a laugh. "You actually believed that?" he chortled.

Hermione's mouth immediately snapped shut, while Harry still looked like he'd just had a stroke. "Strip," she commanded, glaring at Draco.

"Worth it," he smirked, deftly unbuttoning his the rest of his shirt and pulling it off to reveal his pale, leanly muscled torso.

"Worst place you've ever done it?" she asked Neville.

"In the Greenhouses," he said, wincing. She burst out laughing as her mind filled with possible scenarios of what could have gone wrong.

"Potter?" Draco asked.

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," he wrinkled his nose.

Hermione burst out laughing again. "Why on earth would you-?"

"We were short on time!" Harry protested. "Bad- no, _awful_ decisions were made."

"Naughtiest thing you've done in bed?" she asked Neville.

He hesitated for a moment, then resignedly pulled off his trousers, revealing his tight-fitting pants.

"And you?" Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

She flushed a deep red, fighting back the memories of some of her wilder sessions with Sirius. She bit her lip before reaching behind herself to undo the short row of clasps on her bustier. The three men seemed to have stopped breathing as they watched her breasts bounce free, entranced. She immediately felt her nipples harden under their gazes, and squeezed her thighs tighter together lest they smell her arousal.

"Delightful set of cauldrons, Granger," Draco drawled. She flushed again but fought back against the urge to cover herself under her husbands' hungry gazes. The effects of the alcohol was now steadily coursing through her veins, giving her a boost of naughty courage.

Hermione grinned wickedly as she thought of her next question. "What's the last fantasy you wanked to?" she asked Harry.

She had the pleasure of seeing him turn a deep shade of scarlet before he sighed, slowly wriggling out of his pants until he was completely naked. He shifted a few times before going back to sitting cross-legged, resignedly accepting the fact that he was completely exposed no matter his position. She eyed his bare cock where it hung heavy and flaccid between his thighs, feeling a new rush of heat between her legs.

"What's your favorite position?" Harry asked slyly, catching her gaze.

She bit her lip, feeling more heat gathering in her loins as she thought about it. "I…" she stammered. "I like it when he's lying on top of me, and I can feel all of him," she explained, flushing.

"Rough or sweet?" Harry asked, his voice pitched low. She peeked at his cock, noticing that it had slowly begun to harden. The mood in the room shifted with the pitch of his tone, and the throbbing in her loins had only grown more pronounced. All eyes were on her, filled with barely-concealed lust.

"Rough," she responded breathily. Her legs were tucked demurely to the side while the men were cross-legged, yet she felt as though they could see her arousal all the same.

"Do want to be spanked?" Draco asked, trailing his eyes slowly over her body.

"Yes," she whispered. She heard a low groan from beside her and turned to see Neville looking at her hungrily, his pants showing a telltale bulge at the front.

"Take them off," she mumbled to Neville, and he complied instantly, sliding them down until his semi-erect cock bounced free. She licked her lips at the sight.

"Ever had a foursome?" Harry asked lowly. She wondered vaguely when he'd gotten so close, but was distracted by the feeling of his hand coming up to gently knead her breast, causing her to moan softly.

"No," she said, gasping when she felt Draco's hand making teasing caresses up and down her inner thigh.

"Do you want to?" Draco asked, eyes dark as he watched her.

She moaned again instead of answering, unzipping her skirt and letting Neville toss it aside.

"Show them," Neville whispered, his stubble tickling her ear. She shuddered as she felt him ghost a finger over her bare shoulder and arm, down to her thigh, where he gently urged her thighs apart. She heard Draco and Harry each suck in a breath as she bared her crotchless knickers to them. She was dripping wet by this point, and she could feel it heavily coating the lace edges of her knickers.

"Fuck, 'Mione," Harry whispered. He slid behind her until he was leaning his back against the chaise lounge behind them, pulling her body flush against his. His cock was nestled snugly between her bared arse cheeks, and she moaned at the sensation, grinding slowly against him. He let out a low hiss and nibbled at her ear.

She felt a kiss on her calf and looked down to see Draco slowly kissing his way up her leg. She shuddered as he made it to her inner thigh, planting tantalizing kisses everywhere but where she wanted them most. Her head lolled to the side and she saw Neville watching her intently, slowly stroking his cock. She ran a hand over his chest, then beckoned him closer until she could give him a searing kiss.

She jerked in pleasure when she felt a finger parting her folds, and pulled away from Neville's lips to look down to see Draco kneeling before her, just before he leaned forward to give her pussy lips a ghost of a kiss. Her body was now overcome with sensation, every nerve ending on fire as she succumbed to the three men's ministrations.

She reached a hand out blindly until she grasped Neville's cock, gasping as Harry sucked at a sensitive spot on her neck. "Oh!" she moaned as Draco finally licked up a stripe up her pussy.

"Please," she moaned, ghosting her free hand over toward her clit only for Draco to snatch it before it could reach its destination. He took her fingers into his mouth gently instead. "Tell us what you want," his voice was low and seductive. His breath ghosted over her clit, making her shudder.

"I want…" she moaned as Neville dipped his head to latch his mouth over the nipple that Harry wasn't rolling in his fingertips.

"Hmm?" Harry chuckled against the skin of her neck. "Didn't catch that."

"Fuck me, please," she begged as Draco gave her another teasing lick.

Harry brought a finger to her lips and she sucked it automatically. He pulled it out and brought it to where his cock rested in the cleft of her buttocks. "Have you ever…?"

"Once," she gasped, as Draco suddenly dove a finger into her pussy, the squelching sounds echoing loudly in the sitting room. "With Sirius," she added, although he hadn't asked.

"Oh really?" Harry breathed against her skin. "Did you like it?"

"Yes," she moaned, feeling his finger rubbing at her back entrance while Draco added another finger to her pussy. He muttered something into the skin of her back, and she felt a cool, wet sensation in her back passage.

He pulled back slightly so that he could slide a finger inside her, and she jerked at the sensation. "How do you want it?" he asked.

"I-" she cut off with a long moan when Draco removed his fingers only to begin licking her pussy with fervor.

"Do you want us to fuck you in every hole until you come?" Neville said, unlatching himself from her nipple. She noticed a dribble of breast milk sliding down his chin, and watched as he used a finger to gently slide it back into his mouth.

"Fuck," Neville moaned as she started fisting his cock harder at his suggestion. "I'm gonna-"

"In my mouth," she gasped, and she shot a sly grin at his momentarily surprised expression before she abruptly found her mouth full of cock.

She moaned around him, then lifted her hands to his buttocks to pull his cock deeper into her throat. She made loud gurgling noises as she slurped hungrily at his cock, which was now covered in saliva and slippery precome. She swallowed once, twice, until tears gathered in her eyes and her nose was buried in his thick patch of pubic hair, then moaned until her throat vibrated. That was all it took for him to come undone, and he spurted thick ropes of come into her welcoming mouth as she pulled back to accommodate the onslaught of thick fluid.

She swallowed loudly before pulling her mouth off his cock with a loud pop. Some of his come dribbled down her chin, and she watched as he swiped it up with his thumb and pressed it back in her mouth. She accepted it hungrily, looking up at him through her lashes.

"Shit, Hermione," Harry said, planting hungry kisses across her skin. "I need you - now," he moaned, lifting her off of him. This caused Draco's mouth to lose contact with her cunt, and she whined at the loss of contact. She watched Draco take the opportunity to make quick work of his trousers and pants until his thick cock bounced out lewdly.

"Won't be long," Harry kissed her neck once more before she heard him shoving back the chaise lounge to make room behind them. "How do you want it?" he asked again. He slipped a hand down to her cunt and rolled her clit between his fingers.

"Oh!" she gasped. "I...I want to ride you," she moaned as he began rubbing her clit faster, only to pull away.

He laid back on the ground behind her, and she turned to crawl over him, stopped only by his hand on her hip. "No," he whispered, gesturing at her to turn around. "Let them see you," he said.

She turned to see Draco and Neville watching her intently. Draco was still slowly fisting his hard cock, while Neville had leaned back on his haunches, his soft pink cock lying between his thighs. Harry bent his knees and raised his legs until his feet were planted on the floor, spread wide so that she had ample space to settle herself between them. She felt his hand on her hip, and he pulled her back slightly until she felt his cockhead in the cleft of her arse, teasing at her hole. He paused to rub a soothing hand over her back before he gently began to guide his cock into her back entrance.

She groaned loudly and squeezed her eyes as she felt his cock slowly filling her tight hole, moaning at the tight fit. "Harry," she gasped, bracing her hands on his knees as she paused to take a shuddering breath. She opened her eyes to see Draco and Neville still watching her, their eyes chock full of pure, unadulterated lust. Neville's cock was still only at half mast, while Draco's cock was rock hard and leaking, flushed red where its head peeked out at the tip.

She slowly sank the rest of the way down on Harry's cock, spurred on by her lust. Harry let out a long moan from behind her, and she undulated her hips experimentally before clenching around him.

"Fuck!" Harry exclaimed before gripping her hips hard and beginning to move her up and down in a slow rhythm, causing her breasts to bounce in a heavy, rhythmic motion. Her spread thighs nearly touched Harry's widely-splayed ones, giving the other men a lewd show of her naked cunt, along with the cock that was disappearing in and out of her tight arse.

Draco's eyes narrowed into hungry slits as he crawled forward, his hard cock bobbing with his movements. "I'm going to fuck you now, Granger," he announced, eyes trained on her cunt.

She nodded and moaned as he drew close. Harry paused his rhythmic fucking, allowing Draco to line himself up at her entrance.

"Yes," she breathed as the tip of Draco's cock touched her entrance, and he slammed forward with a hard thrust, causing her to let out a scream. "Draco!" she shouted, eyes rolling into the back of her head at the sensation.

She felt so full, so overwhelmingly complete with the two cocks inside of her that she began to shake and came swiftly under the overwhelming sensation of it all. Her mouth was frozen in a strangled moan as she shuddered out her orgasm, clenching hard around the two cocks inside her. It crashed through her in long, heavy waves until she felt as though she would collapse under the force of it. She almost did, only to find herself supported by a new weight, recognizing Neville's strong form beside her as he held her up before she could topple backward onto Harry's chest.

"Move," she eventually whispered desperately. "Please," she gasped as she undulated her hips slowly, moaning at the sensation the two cocks made inside of her.

"Uh!" she moaned as they started to move, finding a slow rhythm.

"Always so tight, Granger, fuck," Draco groaned. She looked down to watch him slam into her rhythmically, while Harry undulated expertly beneath her.

She moaned, fluttering her eyes shut and dissolving under the sensations. She opened them only when she felt something nudging at her lips to see Neville's once again hard, leaking penis at her lips, weeping for attention. She opened her mouth wide, hoping he would understand her meaning. He did instantly and began fucking her mouth slowly. She was filled in every hole, and couldn't concentrate on any one thing, letting her husbands take their pleasure from her while they dragged her own out of her.

She gurgled around Neville's cock, listening to the lewd sound of Harry's bollocks slapping repeatedly against her arse as he sped up his rhythm.

"I'm gonna come," Harry gasped, and she squeezed herself around him in encouragement. This caused Draco to let out a guttural groan as her pussy clamped down around his cock, and he shuddered his release, pumping into her with stuttered movements.

"Fuck, Granger," Draco said. He pulled out slowly, leaning down to give her mound a quick kiss before flopping back onto the rug, sated.

As soon as Draco pulled out, Harry sat up, causing her to pull off Neville's cock as he started slamming into her arse roughly, chasing his release. "Urgh!" she moaned, listening to the loud slapping noises their skin made each time he pulled her down on his cock. Draco leaned up on his elbows to watch the display, eyes trained on the way her tits bounced roughly with each thrust.

"Fuck!" Harry shouted, and she felt him come hard within her, coating her insides. Once he'd caught his breath, he slid her off of him gently to lay her on the floor beside him. She lay back bonelessly, reaching a tired hand down to drag a lazy finger through the fluids that leaked from her dripping holes.

Her rest did not last long, however, and she soon felt her legs being lifted and pried apart. She fluttered her eyes open to see Neville hitching her legs around his hips. "I need to fuck you," he said desperately, and she rolled her hips in encouragement before he drove his cock into her pussy, uncaring of the remnants of Draco's release that still lingered within her. She moaned loudly, arching her back as he set forth at a brutal pace, bollocks slapping lewdly against her arse with each intimate invasion of his cock.

It was good, so good, and she could do nothing but gasp out incoherent sounds as Neville fucked her roughly into the carpet. He dragged her up suddenly, clutching her to him as he pulled her into a hot, desperate kiss. She came swiftly and suddenly, shuddering around his cock. He kept up his brutal pace, kissing and fucking her through her orgasm until another, smaller one followed behind the first, taking her by surprise.

"Fu-ck," she moaned, dragging her mouth away from Neville's so that she could cry out properly. She looked over Neville's shoulder with half-lidded eyes to see both Harry and Draco hard again, fisting their cocks as they watched Neville fuck her senseless.

She used a weak hand to beckon them both forward until their cocks were close enough for her to grasp them, fisting them tightly as Neville continued to bounce her on his cock. He came with a small groan, sucking on her shoulder as he pumped his hot release into her eager cunt. When his pumps slowed to nothing, she crawled off of his cock, shuffling backward and pulling Harry and Draco with her gently by their cocks until she leaned back on her haunches. She then began alternating her between their cocks, sucking at them sloppily.

"Hermione," Harry groaned when she lifted a hand to fondle his bollocks.

"I want it on me," she breathed, before turning back to slurp at Draco's cock. Had she been sober, she might have blushed at how easily she voiced her filthy wish. But, as it were, she most definitely was _not_ sober, and so only continued to suck at their cocks sloppily until she felt like they were about to come.

When Draco gave a telltale groan, she pulled back completely in time for both men to begin spraying thick ropes of come on her. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling it paint her chest in thick ropes, dribbling down her chin. Some landed across her tits, and she rubbed it in in encouragement with one hand, while using her other to rub her clit roughly until she was shuddering out another orgasm.

She flopped back onto the rug, exhausted and sated. She wiped at some of the come coating her chin and fluttered them open to see her husbands in similar positions, lying naked and sated on the floor.

"I love you," she said to no one in particular, sighing satisfactorily. She heard several answering chuckles.

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading, I know this was my most anticipated chapter by far. I was super nervous/hesitant about writing it, but I hope it met the expectations a lot of you had. I'm not yet comfortable writing smut, so this one was definitely a bound waaayyy outta my comfort zone. I had to compensate here for future chapters because things are starting to get more serious and there is going to be a bit of a drop in heavy smut (it won't go away completely though, promise!). Also, do keep in mind that 18, 19, and 20 all take place within the span of 24 hours - so don't worry, I haven't forgotten what was discussed in 17 and I will be getting back to that in future chapters. 20 will be up next week.**


	20. Chapter 20

**As a reminder from last chapter, chapters 18, 19, and 20 all take place within the same 24 hour time period - 18 got so long that I ended up splitting it into three chapters! I have not forgotten what happened in 17 and will be getting back there verrry soon.**

 **As always, thank you all for following and for your lovely reviews. And, of course, a huge thank you especially goes out to RESimon for being such a wonderful beta!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY**

She woke up in her own bed that morning, with a throbbing headache and dry mouth. It wasn't until she'd gulped down a hangover potion, shuffled into her bathroom and looked into the mirror that the memories of the previous night had come slamming back into her head. Someone had cleaned her and dressed her in a thin satin nightie, but she still gasped at the littering of darkening marks scattered across her throat and collarbone. She'd tried a multitude of charms and makeup before rushing into her closet to pick out a high-necked set of robes that concealed as much of her skin as possible.

Every step she'd taken as she descended towards the grand dining room was taken with trepidation, her heart thundering as she wondered if any of her husbands had heard their _activities_ , the night before. She cringed as she recalled all the times she'd cried out wantonly in pleasure, knowing she'd likely been loud enough to wake the dead.

At that thought, her head snapped up as she made her way past a familiar, outraged-looking portrait. "FILTHY TRAMP! _DISGRAAACE_ -" Hermione hurriedly flicked her wand at the woman to silence her shrieks, face flaming. It hadn't taken her long to realize that only Malfoys could silence the portraits, and seeing as though she now was one, she'd mostly been able to silence them or threaten with nasty hexes until they sneered into submission. She'd managed to avoid having sex in plain view of the portraits since the first incident, but even if the rest of her husbands hadn't heard her drunken tryst the night before, many of the portraits certainly had.

Hermione finally shuffled into the dining room with pink cheeks and a bowed head.

"Everything alright out there, Hermione?" Harry asked casually, taking a long sip from his steaming mug.

She flushed at his knowing look and made a beeline for the first empty seat she spied. "Everything's fine," she mumbled, spooning eggs onto her plate. She didn't meet anyone's eyes, fearful of encountering any more knowing looks.

"I quite like the new look," Kingsley remarked, and she shot her head up to look at him, wide-eyed. "Your hair," he clarified as he caught her expression, frowning slightly.

She let out the breath that she'd been holding, having forgotten that she'd used plenty of layered charms the night before such that her hair still fell straight despite her shower that morning.

"Sure you're alright?" Arthur asked, mirroring Kingsley's concerned frown.

"Yes," she mumbled, flushing deeply.

"Cold, today, Hermione?" Neville asked from beside her. She looked up to catch him smirking at her covered neck.

"I'll have the elves cast some more warming charms, if that'll help," Draco said from her other side, looking calm and collected as he buttered his toast.

"It's fine," she mumbled, dropping a generous dollop of cream onto her waffle. She stuffed her mouth hurriedly, lest someone else ask any other embarrassing questions. She peeked up momentarily to see many of their thoughtful gazes on her, but no one made any additional comments.

"Quite the cream lover, I see?" Sirius remarked, looking at her plate.

"Indeed she is," Harry said slyly, and Neville ducked his head as his shoulders shook with laughter.

"You've actually got some on you," Draco said from beside her, and she stiffened in horror, wondering if he was actually going to wipe off dried come from her face, right here, in front of everyone-

He swiped a small bit of cream from the corner of her mouth, giving her a sly wink. "Missed a spot."

She ducked her head and rushed through the rest of the food on her plate, avoiding the cream covered waffle as her face flamed in embarrassment.

 **X**

Hermione smiled as Emma scooted forward, arms waving happily as she watched the flying stuffed dragon overhead. It opened its mouth to let out a breath of its charmed fire, swooping down as it did so so that the fake fire puffed over Emma's face in a cloud of cool air. She giggled happily, and the dragon rose and circled again, this time blowing a puff of pink fire upon Jasmine's dark hair.

Parvati laughed at her infant's delight, and Hannah joined her. "I can't get over how beautiful her name is," Hannah said, watching as her son, Elijah, gurgled happily beside Jasmine.

"It's in honor of my grandmother," Parvati said. "She was Persian, actually. It's often forgotten, but I wanted to remember her." She smiled down at her daughter, whose bright blue eyes were still affixed upon the dragon circling in the air. Elijah rolled over suddenly, barrelling into Jasmine. Their mothers held their breaths as they waited for the children to burst into tears, sighing in relief when they both simply sat back up, gurgling happily.

"Eli!" Hannah scolded softly. The infant paid her no mind, instead opting to watch the dragon with rapt attention.

"Eh, they'll be fine. What is it with these children and the dragon?" Parvati sighed. "Sometimes I have to let him fly for hours just to keep them occupied. Actually, I blame Ron. He's the one who bought the blasted thing in the first place."

Hannah nodded in agreement. "Michael insisted on getting two more for the next ones so that they don't have to share," she said, rolling her eyes.

Hermione sighed. "Harry and Draco bought these ludicrous Quidditch cribs that I barely convinced them to save for _their_ children. I should take you up to see the nurseries they've been decorating, they look ridiculous!"

"Gods, I just barely convinced Ron not to buy that thing! I know he's got his fancy Auror salary and all now, but some things are just too much."

Luna pulled her infant out from under the flap in her nursing robes. "Orion's rather fond of his snake," she said.

"You bought him...a pet snake?" Hannah asked cautiously.

"Oh no," Luna giggled. "His snake's a stuffed one. Although, we do keep plenty of live ones in the gardens. They're quite good at controlling the nargles," she said happily.

Hermione let out a relieved breath, making an internal note to never venture into the gardens of Luna's home.

Luna leaned forward, attempting to put her squirming infant on the ground with the other children. Her bulging stomach impeded her quite a bit, however, and she smiled gratefully when Hermione plucked him from her arms and put him down next to Hannah's other son, Freddie, who was gnawing quite determinedly on the corner of one of the Malfoys' throw cushions.

"Frederick," Hannah cringed as she watched her son.

Hermione waved it off. "Some things you just have to let go," she said. "Besides, the elves clean so thoroughly I doubt anything in this room has ever even been touched by a speck of dirt," she added, scowling.

"Still on with your S.P.E.W. nonsense, I see?" Parvati laughed.

"It is not nonsense, they have _rights_ -"

"And we all pay our elves, as you've suggested," Hannah added with a laugh. Hermione scowled while the other women in the room tittered.

"These two are having quite the playdate today," Luna said, rubbing her belly. "Only a few more weeks to go, thankfully."

"Lucky you," Parvati sighed, picking up Ravi as he pawed at her leg for attention. "I'm only three weeks along. Don't know how I'm going to manage to do this four more times."

"The sex certainly makes up for it though, doesn't it?" Luna said airily.

Hannah gasped, scandalized, automatically clapping her hands over Ravi's ears, who had slid from Parvati over to her lap. "Honestly, Luna!"

Hermione burst out laughing. "Gods, Luna, you really haven't changed, have you?"

"Well it does, doesn't it?" Luna asked Hermione, looking at her pointedly.

Hannah looked from Luna to the infants on the floor then back to Luna again. "I suppose they don't understand, anyway," Hannah sighed, letting Ravi slide back to the floor again as he became entranced by the dragon once more.

Parvati let out a giggle. "I suppose you're right," she said. "I must admit, it is rather good," she turned a wicked grin on Hermione.

"What?" Hermione said anxiously, fearful of the gleam in the woman's eyes.

"Tell us," she said. "Who's the best in bed?"

"Parvati!" she flushed. "Honestly, you haven't changed at all since Hogwarts either."

"I'll admit that it is quite good," Hannah said. "With most of them," she added, wrinkling her nose.

Parvati barked a laugh. "Now you _have_ to explain," she said, leaning forward with interest.

"Well, uh, Roger you see, has been trying to convince me to, uh," she made a general gesture towards her posterior.

Parvati burst out laughing. "Geez, you sound like Padma. Lucky Anna's ill, otherwise she might have been here, having a fit," she smiled slyly. "It can be rather good if he does it right, you know."

Hannah looked scandalized. "I think not! I'm rather traditional in that sense, I suppose."

"I love it," Luna said casually. "In fact, just last night, Rolf, Marcus, and I were-"

"Luna!" Hermione cut her off, feigning shock. In truth, she hoped to detract from the fact that her blush was certainly not due to her being shocked at the idea, recalling her incident in a room just down the hall only the night before. It was Saturday, after all, and all of her husbands were home, although hopefully not lingering anywhere within earshot.

Even Parvati's jaw dropped at this admission. "Damn, Lovegood. You really are getting into it, aren't you?"

"I hardly think sex four, maybe five times a month per husband is fair," she said. "I'm at it every day, after all, and I love it."

Hermione paused at that. Now that she was down to a regular schedule of cycling through seven men, she realized that Luna's point did have some merit - only four times a month really wasn't much.

Parvati shrugged. "You do have to get adventurous sometimes," she admitted. "Actually, I kinda like it when they're spontaneous. Ron and I once went at it in the nursery bathroom while Jasmine and Ravi were down for a nap-"

"I could have gone without hearing that, thank you very much," Hermione clipped, wrinkling her nose.

"Oh whatever, it's not like you haven't shagged him before," Parvati said, rolling her eyes.

The three other women turned to look at her when she was silent. "Wait - you didn't?" Hannah said.

Hermione shrugged, knowing her cheeks were tinged pink. "We just...never got around to it," she shrugged. It was semi-truthful - they'd only gotten together towards the end of the Horcrux hunt, and between the battle, the plague and everything that had come after, she'd been able to avoid doing the deed without much suspicion before they'd broken up.

"So, who was first then?" Hannah asked.

"Harry, of course," Luna said.

Hermione's eyes widened a fraction. "Did he tell you?"

Luna giggled. "No, but it's rather obvious, isn't it? Who else would you have chosen?"

"Could have been Snape, for all we know," Hannah giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Sorry! It could have been, couldn't it?" she said, looking down knowingly at where Emma and Freddie were pawing at a glowing, rainbow-colored ball.

"It- it was Harry," she admitted, carefully omitting that she's propositioned Snape only an hour later.

"How about you, Parvati?" Hannah asked.

"Oh please, you know very well I was no virgin by then. But I let Seamus take me first - in the first closet we could find, actually. It was rather nice, just like when we were at Hogwarts. And the magic was...well," she smiled saucily, flipping her silky sheet of dark hair over her shoulder.

Hannah nodded enthusiastically. "I snuck off with Terry twice, and still went for three rounds with Michael that night. The next morning, Horace and I-"

"Alright!" Parvati held up a hand. "I'd rather not hear about that one." Hermione nodded in agreement, her stomach rolling at the thought of her friend in bed with their ex-Potions professor.

Hannah smiled. "He's rather sweet, actually. And more experienced than you'd think."

Luna nodded in agreement. "Hector is quite the lover."

"Speaking of older men, I do wonder how Lucius Malfoy is in bed," Parvati said suggestively, looking at Hermione. "I mean, he is gorgeous," she said.

Hermione peeked out the open doors of the sitting room. "He's, uh, satisfactory," she said diplomatically.

Parvati raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, Hermione, who would have thought you were still such a prude - what with you being married to some of the most gorgeous men in Britain and all," she said.

"Truly!" Hannah said. "I used to be a tad jealous of you having Harry wrapped around your finger back at Hogwarts, and now you have Lucius. And Sirius-"

"Hell, even Snape has his charms," Parvati added.

"It's the voice," Luna agreed. "And Kingsley is so large and muscular, I wonder if he's that large everywhere-"

Hermione flushed. "I-"

"And Draco!" Parvati added. "Most beautiful man at Hogwarts, I must admit."

The three women tittered as Hermione stuttered.

She froze when she heard a telltale echo of footsteps in the corridor, eyes widening. A moment later, none other than Draco appeared in the doorway.

"Afternoon, ladies," he said, smiling down at where the children played.

"Hullo, Draco," Luna said casually as if nothing had just transpired.

"Welcome," Parvati said, shooting him a wicked grin.

"Spending time with the grandkids?" Draco smirked at Hermione as he waved at Ravi who giggled back.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Hermione seethed through gritted teeth.

Parvati burst out laughing, and Luna and Hannah joined her, tittering until they were wiping tears from their eyes.

The floo roared to life then, and Ron stepped out, dusting soot off his clothes. Some of the dust floated over to where Jasmine sat, and the infant sneezed loudly.

"Ronald!" Hermione admonished, scooping her up and dusting soot from her dark hair.

"Sorry, luvy," he said, giving Jasmine's head a quick kiss. "Did you have a good time with your Grandmum today?" he asked, tickling the infant until she let out a small giggle.

"Shut it, Ronald," Hermione glared, letting him lift Jasmine out of her arms so that she could cross her arms indignantly.

Draco, Parvati, Hannah, and Luna guffawed in the background, while Ron smirked at her. "What?" he asked, blinking innocently.

She glared back but said nothing.

"I'd say she's taken quite well to her grandmum duties," Harry said, stepping into the room past Draco.

Hermione groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"Is that a grey hair I spot?" Harry joked, bursting into laughter as she looked up, giving him a panicked look.

"I'm quite fond of grey myself," Draco winked at her. "I wouldn't mind."

The other occupants of the room burst into laughter again as she buried her face in her hands once more, groaning loudly.

 **X**

It was late, and Hermione was curled up on a chair in the cavernous drawing room, enjoying the warmth of the roaring fire before her. A book lay abandoned on her lap, and she'd let her eyes fall closed, sighing deeply.

A throat cleared from beyond her, and she looked up to see Kingsley standing in the doorway, smiling down at her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked.

"Did you know that I'm a grandmother now?" she said pointedly.

Kingsley barked out a laugh. "I wasn't aware, no," he said once he'd sobered.

She nodded. "Ron and Parvati have had twins," she explained. "And since Arthur and I...well, here we are."

He chuckled again, eyes dancing with humor as he looked over at her. "You make a very beautiful grandmother," he said honestly.

She gave him a small smile. "It's nice to see you smile," she remarked. Besides their scheduled nights together, Kingsley's appearances at dinner or elsewhere had been scarce for months. As society had slowly begun to return to a sense of normalcy, regular affairs had begun to pile up alongside the ones the Marriage Law had sparked, leaving little room for the Minister to have any free time.

He nodded, crossing over to her. "May I…?"

"You may," she smiled again, moving so that he could sit before she settled into his arms. "I'll never tire of this," she sighed, snuggling closer into his chest.

"Nor I," he said.

They sat together for a long while, cuddling in companionable silence.

"What are you reading?" he asked, picking up the book she'd abandoned in her lap.

"Oh, it's just a muggle novel," she explained.

"Persuasion," he said, peeking at the cover. "Quite the classic."

"You read muggle novels?" she asked, surprised.

"I've read plenty, actually," he said. "My parents always thought it best to be as worldly as possible."

"Oh," she said, surprised.

"You thought they were trained on old Pureblood principles, hmm?" he chuckled.

"Perhaps," she said, looking down.

"My upbringing was...unconventional, at times," he said. "My family actually had many successful investments in the Muggle world, and they thought it necessary for my brother and me to become acquainted with their form of business, as well as their highest arts."

"Oh," she said quietly, too ashamed to admit that she hadn't even known he'd had a brother.

"They all perished, during the First Wizarding War," he said, answering the questions that were swirling in her head.

"I'm so sorry, Kingsley," she breathed, hugging herself closer to his body. She'd known they'd passed years prior but hadn't questioned it past that.

"It is quite alright," he said. "I've learned to handle life well enough on my own."

She leaned up to kiss him. "You're not alone anymore," she reminded him. "Will you...tell me about them?"

"My mother...she was the disciplinarian. Headstrong and determined, she commanded authority in every room she stepped into. She sat on the Wizengamot for decades before she passed, and she had a knack for swaying everyone to her will. My father would have been loathe to admit it, but she was our true head of household."

Hermione smiled, picturing the woman.

"My father was himself a headstrong man, but he always had a weak spot for her. Truthfully, everyone did - she was revered for her beauty, and although they were betrothed long before they were of age, my father always reminded us that she truly made him fight for her. He was an oftentimes harsh man, but he never wavered when it came to gentlemanly qualities and loved us fiercely despite his traditional Pureblood upbringing that would have had him keeping his affections for us quite reserved. Yes, we were raised while being immersed in Pureblood culture, but we were also taught the importance of kindness and compassion - and also around whom not to show it, lest it portray us as weak.

"And Tiberius...I suppose there is much to say about him, and also not much at all. We...were never close, growing up. He was older than me, and there was a distance between us because he was usually away at Hogwarts, and often spent his holidays away with his friends. The distance furthered when I was sorted into Ravenclaw, while my family was Slytherin through and through. He graduated when I was a second year and then...they were all killed during the War, attempting to protect a group of muggle-borns from a Death Eater Attack."

"I'm sorry, Kingsley," she said. Imagining what his life must have been like, losing his entire family at such a tender age. "I can't imagine…"

"It was...difficult," he admitted. "I went to Hogwarts during the school year, then spent my summers with family members in France. I was never close with them, and by my fifth year, they'd allowed me to begin spending my summers with friends from Hogwarts. I became an Auror because I was never certain that the threat was entirely gone, that he would never come back. And...the rest you know, I suppose," he finished.

She snuggled closer into him, hoping it communicated all her admiration for him. "Kingsley," she murmured into his chest. "They would be so proud of you."

"Mm," Kingsley answered noncommittally.

"We could name our firstborn son Tiberius if you would like," she said, looking up to meet his dark eyes.

They were shining with emotion and he leaned down to give her a sweet kiss. "I would like that very much."

She plucked up her abandoned novel and opened it to where she'd left off. "Read to me?" she asked. He complied happily, and she let herself drift off to the low, soothing tone of his voice.

* * *

 **This was a quieter chapter than usual, but I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. To clarify on the children: Luna's first son, Orion, is Gregory Goyle's. She's currently pregnant with her canon kids, Lorcan and Lysander, who were also fathered by Rolf. Hannah has twins - Frederick and Elijah. However, the former is Seamus' and the latter is Michael Corner's. Parvati, of course, has the twins, Jasmine and Ravi, with Ron and is currently pregnant with her third. 21 will be along sooner rather than later, so look out for it!**


	21. Chapter 21

**As always, thank you to RESimon for being such a wonderful beta.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

Winter had begun to wane, and the days stretched and grew slightly warmer in spite of frequent rains. The grounds were still covered in a rapidly melting layer of snow, revealing the sodden earth below. One March morning, they were quietly eating breakfast when an elf popped in suddenly, brandishing a letter for Harry. He took it slowly, looking perplexed. As he opened it, though, his expression melted into a frown, and then remorse.

"What is it, Harry?" she said, watching him concernedly.

"I've…" he cleared his throat and adjusted his spectacles, eyes flicking down to the letter in his hand briefly again. "I've been given clearance to leave Britain for an assignment."

This earned him a few interested glances from around the table. Once the marriage law had been announced, they'd been forbidden to leave Britain under any circumstances, under penalty of Azkaban, from where they would be forced to finish their breeding duties.

He was still looking at her with an odd, melancholic look.

"Where is it?" she heard Neville ask, still caught in Harry's gaze.

"Australia," Harry breathed. It was only one word, but the word was powerful enough to shatter her world, and Harry knew it. It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, and her stomach dropped abruptly. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat constricted around the words.

He stood quietly, looking at her, his gaze never leaving hers. A million words passed between them then, yet none left their mouths.

When he took a step back, she finally sucked in a ragged breath, eyes flying to meet his. "Harry-" she rasped, feeling tears spring to her eyes. "Harry, please check-"

"I'll try," he promised. "You know I will, but if the Ministry-"

Her feet wobbled as she finally pushed back from the table and went over to him. She felt the eyes of the other men at the table on her, but Harry and the sorrowful look behind his eyes was the only thing that mattered to her. "I know," she whispered when she was close enough to reach out and clutch his arms. "I know, but just check. You only need to check, please-" her voice broke, and he drew her into a fierce hug.

"I'll check, I promise," he said, pulling back. She knew she looked wild, broken, and that he'd caught it.

"I love you," he whispered, giving her a quick kiss. And then he was gone.

 **X**

She spent the morning fluctuating between caring for Emma and pacing. Once Emma went down for her nap, she went to the library, looking for anything to read so that she could pass the time. She'd finished scanning the same page for the fifth time when she finally put down the book with a frustrated sigh, letting it drop onto the sofa beside her. She stood and exited the room, not paying attention to where her feet carried her until she realized she was stopped outside of the door to Lucius' study, hand raised to knock.

She pulled back, hesitating. She hadn't dared visit the man's study since the first time she'd gone, and she didn't know why she was there now. Before she could turn to leave, however, the door swung open.

She looked in to where Lucius sat at his large, ornate desk across the room, casually writing on some parchment.

"Enter or leave, Mrs. Malfoy," he clipped, not bothering to look up from his writing.

She hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room, jumping slightly as the door flew closed behind her.

"What is your purpose?" Lucius enunciated, eyes still trained on the page before him.

She had no answer and instead stood there, opening her mouth and closing it again. "To, erm, talk, I suppose, um…" she trailed off.

Finally, he looked up at her, arching a manicured eyebrow. "To...talk?" he said slowly, pronouncing the words as though she were a fool.

She flushed and stood there silently, fidgeting under the probing look he gave her.

"If that is all, I shall see you this evening," he said finally, turning back to look at his desk.

She finally found her voice. "We could, erm, if you have time…" she said, scrambling for a reason, _any_ reason not to go back to her pacing, for something that could distract her from her thoughts of what Harry was doing at that moment.

He looked up at her again, giving her that hard, searching look once more as he appraised her. Wordlessly, he stood and opened his robes before he began to unbutton his trousers.

She swallowed, then made her way over to his desk and bent over it, assuming the only position he'd taken her in for months. Her face was pressed into a piece of parchment, and as she felt him lifting her robes she began scanning its contents as a way to pass the time until he was finished. She reminded herself that this was the agreement when they'd entered into this farce of a marriage, and these hurried moments of mechanical copulation were the only true attachment they had. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry as he bunched her robes around her waist and secured them magically before shoving down her knickers.

She shivered at the feeling of his cool fingers on her lower lips as he muttered a lubrication charm and dipped two fingers into her once, twice before pulling them out altogether. He shoved into her in one hard thrust, forcing her cheek to rub repeatedly against the parchment beneath her face. She let her eyes flutter open, scanning the parts of it she could see that listed various transactions for absurd amounts of galleons that dwarfed the amount she had in her own vault several times over. He started ramming into her harder until the contents of the page blurred before her, and she squeezed her eyes closed again as she waited for him to finish.

He finished not long after she finished the thought, pulling out of her as abruptly as he'd shoved in, leaving a trail of his release sliding down her thighs. She stood quickly and righted her robes, turning in time to see him tuck away his softening cock. She blushed at the sight, then scolded herself for it as she saw him catch her gaze.

"You may go, Mrs. Malfoy," he said pointedly as he finished straightening his robes, looking ever the picture of aristocracy, not a hair out of place.

"Is this how it will always be?" she asked, meeting his eyes.

He did not answer, instead opting to raise a blond eyebrow.

"Every time we're due to" - she hesitated over the word - "copulate, you bend me over like a whore, then send me off without a word."

"Copulation is what is required of us, and nothing more," he clipped, moving back to settle into his large, wingback chair once more. "I have affairs to attend to," he added dismissively.

"You barely treat me as a human being!" she seethed, slamming an open palm down on his desk. "Has the novelty worn off so quickly? You were rather quick to turn from teasing to treating me as something sub-human," she spat bitterly.

He said nothing but looked at her as one would look at a petulant child.

"But that is what you think, isn't it?" she said, letting her anger propel her forward. "I wonder if you would have treated me differently then if you had even bothered to recognize that I am a _human being_."

"I have no time for your petulant whining-"

"You tried to kill me once," she said softly. "Have you ever regretted it, even for a moment?"

"No," he answered simply, tonelessly.

Somewhere deep inside, she'd known his answer, yet she gasped anyway. The silence following his admission was deafening, and it was a long moment before she was able to speak again. "You are a monster," she whispered.

"I have certain loyalties that I have chosen to prioritize," he clipped before summoning a pile of parchment from across the room and thumbing through them.

"You chose-" She took a moment to suck in a ragged breath as she felt the rage coursing through her, boiling higher with each word, "-you chose to follow that murderer, and prioritized killing innocents over maintaining a shred of selflessness-"

"I follow no one. I held certain beliefs, and I pursued them through the most amenable route." He was looking at her again, his stormy eyes communicating a sharp warning to proceed no further.

"And that makes you better?" she spat out a derisive laugh. "Yes, _of course,_ you are redeemed because it was your _personal_ choice to decide to eradicate my kind, not _his_."

He continued to glare at her, the parchment in his hand crumpling slightly under his tightening grip.

"Have you ever considered for even a moment that muggles are humans, too? That they-"

"Muggles are naught but useless creatures who have been unfortunate enough to wander this earth, unaware of how vastly inane they are."

"Even without magic, muggles are able to live happy, fulfilling lives-"

"Tell me, Mrs. Malfoy," he drawled, steepling his fingers and resting his chin upon them. "How exactly would it feel to have your magic bound?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She knew she had no words that could describe even the idea of losing her magic. It would feel as if she'd lost herself, turned into an empty shell of a being-

"Would it not be a fate not unlike receiving a Dementor's Kiss?" he asked, looking at her knowingly.

"I-" she could find no retort, because yes, that was exactly what she imagined it would be like. Magic pulsed through her veins as completely as her blood, and she knew it could not be extricated from her without taking her soul with it, too.

"Precisely," he said. "Muggles are a reflection of this - bodies with no direction, leading hollow existences while they know nothing of what life is meant to hold."

"Muggles know nothing about magic, yes, but they have managed to live incredible existences-"

"They know nothing, therefore they are nothing," Lucius clipped, voice hard and unwavering.

"You have known nothing but prejudice and hatred, and that is why _you_ are a mere shell of a human being," she shot back, seething.

His mouth had thinned into a hard line, and an angry muscle jumped at his jaw. "You know nothing of me, nor of the choices I've made," he said evenly.

"Of course I do!" she shouted. "I was _there_ , or have you forgotten? I was there when you tried to murder innocent teenagers!" She shivered as she recalled the terror she'd felt as she'd run through the Department of Mysteries, tossing every offensive spell she knew over her shoulder as she wondered if she would live out the night.

"I made the choice between killing you and protecting my son," he said. "Do not ask if I would do it again."

"That is bollocks, Lucius! Stop using Draco as an excuse! As you say, he's your _son._ He's a _person_ , just as I am, just as all muggles are. I would protect my daughter with my very life before I would harm anyone else. He was only in danger in the first place because of your choices and actions," she spat.

His eyes flashed as he glared up at her. "Do you think if I'd known what he would task me with, that I would have-"

"But you did it anyway!" she shouted. "You did many, much worse things after that, so how can you-"

"I did what I had to do to protect my son," he said, his tone still clipped.

"To protect your son?" she spat. "Yes, always to only protect your _heir_. The basilisk almost killed _me_ , among others. Not that it would be of concern to you as long as your precious pure-blooded line was secure-"

" _I did what I had to do to protect my son_ ," he repeated, his voice laced with rage.

It dawned on her then, what he was implying. She swept her eyes over him, searching for an inkling of the pain he hinted at beneath his hard features. But no, there was nothing - not a hair out of place, which is no less than one could expect from the esteemed Lucius Malfoy. "Were you working for the Order, in the end?" she whispered.

"No," he clipped easily. He hadn't moved an inch and continued to glare darkly at her.

"Are you lying to me right now?" she asked again, searching his eyes.

"I worked neither for nor against anyone. I aided those whose interests best aligned with my own at any given time, and there is nothing more or less to it than that."

"And the Order's interests aligned with your own at some point, didn't they?" she breathed.

He did not answer but continued to glare down at her.

"It was the Order that orchestrated your early release from Azkaban, wasn't it?" she asked.

Again, he said nothing, although the angry muscle in his jaw continued to twitch.

"When you came to Hogwarts that time, at the end of sixth year-" her heart panged as she recalled that it had been _that_ time, the time he'd almost caught her and Draco that had lead Draco to break her heart in return, "-were you there meeting Dumbledore?"

"Leave," he said, through angrily gritted teeth.

"Answer me!" she shouted, slamming a fist down onto his desk as realization began dawning on her. "If you had switched sides then, if you were truly an _ex_ -Death Eater as you so proclaimed, then why did you do that to him? He could have been happy, _we_ could have been happy-"

"As I have told you before," he snapped. "I care not for the pathetic childhood romance you insisted on carrying on through clandestine meetings in the Room of Requirement-"

Her head snapped up. "How did you know that?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you have no further business-"

It felt as though a block of ice had dropped in her stomach. "You saw us that night, didn't you?" she whispered. It was the night she'd decided to sleep with Draco for the first time, and they'd met in the hall just outside the Room of Requirement. That was one of the few nights that they'd chanced a kiss in such a risky place. It had quickly dissolved into something more, and they had stopped abruptly at the sound of Lucius' walking stick echoing down the hall. Her heart clenched painfully as she remembered hiding behind a pillar as Draco went to greet his father. She'd known, deep inside, despite how well she was able to convince herself otherwise at that moment, that it was different than Umbridge, that what they'd had was drawing rapidly close to its end.

Lucius said nothing this time, simply continued to glare at her.

"You knew," she accused. "You _knew_ and you-"

"Get _out_ ," he snapped.

She glared at him for a moment longer before she felt a surge of magic flare within her and a near-empty glass of dark liquor on his desk exploded into a sea of glittering shards that rained down over them.

"Nothing you could have done by the time Draco was even born would have saved him from all that _your_ Mark has brought down on him in his life," she said, her voice teeming with a quiet rage. "And that - what _you_ have done to him - will always be a filthier stain on your house than my blood could ever be." With that, she whirled and exited the study, slamming the door behind her.

 **X**

By late afternoon, she was sitting at her desk, running her hands over a small wooden chest. She hadn't opened it in months, as the passage of time made it all the more painful to read the contents within. She traced her fingers over the roses carved into the chest's lid, its magically-preserved paint still as vibrant as the day she'd been gifted it. With slightly trembling fingers, she tugged open the latch, revealing the pile of letters inside. Every letter her parents had written since the day they'd first sent her off to Hogwarts. She picked up the first in the pile, tracing a finger over her mother's familiar curling script.

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts, and she dropped the letter back into the chest hastily, clicking it shut.

"Come in," she called, standing up to welcome a new distraction while she waited for Harry to return.

She was surprised, then, when her visitor turned out to be Harry himself.

"Hermione," he said softly.

Her heart broke at the somber look in his eyes. "Are-are they-?" she cut off, unable to say the words.

"I couldn't," he cleared his throat before starting again. "I couldn't find them," he whispered. "I tried to get away, I did for as long as I could, but they weren't there-"

He cut off as she started sobbing, and he ran to her, folding her into his arms.

"I am so sorry, 'Mione," he whispered, raining kisses all over her hair. "I'm _so_ sorry, I would do anything, if I could. _Anything_ ," he promised.

"I know," she mumbled through her tears. She continued to sob, reminded of how the war and everything that had followed had led her here. She felt hopeless as her parents were wandering somewhere in Australia, ignorant of the lives that she had ripped from their minds. She ran through all the scenarios in which she could have gone to bring them back and had them with her now. "It was me, it was my fault-"

Harry pulled back, gently coaxing her to look at him. "Hermione," he whispered. "None of this was your fault. None of it - you did your best to save them, and sending them away was the best option - you know that."

"I had time, Harry, I had time, and I-" she burst into hard, hiccuping sobs, wishing desperately that she could return to that short window of time after the plague where the Ministry had finally lifted the travel ban, only to replace it once the Marriage Law had been announced.

"'Mione, you had so many responsibilities that you couldn't have possibly-"

"I could have gone, Harry! I could have and I didn't," she cried. "I was scared, so scared of how heartbroken they'd be when they got back - _if_ they got back, that I didn't even _try_ -"

"None of it is your fault, none of this is your fault, 'Mione," he reminded her, his emerald eyes burning with sincerity. "How could you have brought them back into that chaos, anyway?"

"I should have done something!" she sobbed.

"They can't stop us from leaving forever," Harry reassured her. "Everyone is bound now, no one can run away anymore."

"I don't- I don't think that's all there is to it, Harry," she choked. "The bonding magic is so old, so volatile, I think they're scared of what could happen if we stay too far-"

He stopped her with a finger over her lips. "You _think,_ Hermione," he said quietly. "You think, but you don't know. We will find a way to bring them back, I promise you," he whispered, giving her soft kisses along her cheeks.

She nodded mutely, despite knowing that nothing could quell the doubt swirling in her heart.

 **X**

"Granger," Draco called, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine, Draco," she murmured, looking out her window at over the Manor's snow-covered grounds. Moonlight reflected off the white blanket of snow, giving the grounds an ethereal glow.

"Don't lie to me," he responded softly into her shoulder.

"I…" she faltered.

"It's about your parents, isn't it?"

She sighed, giving a soft nod as she sank back into him.

"Did Potter…"

"No," she whispered. "He couldn't...they weren't…he couldn't find them, and they could be _anywhere_ -" she choked off, barely suppressing the tears she'd hoped had finally stopped flowing only a short while ago.

"Look at me, Granger," he whispered.

She didn't turn, eyes still trained outside, taking in the beauty and tranquility of winter outside, where nature was undisturbed as far as she could see.

"Hermione," he said quietly, twisting her gently in his arms. "Please."

She felt a tear slip down her cheek, he brushed it away. "Let's go talk to Shacklebolt, surely-"

"I can't," she said. "He can't - the Wizengamot, they won't let him take a step out of order for anything relating to the Marriage Law-"

"We'll find a way," he said. "We have resources. We have time-"

"We don't _have_ time anymore Draco," she cried. "They're missing, and they could be anywhere. The Australian Ministry refuses to interfere with anything having to do with muggles and I- I need to hire a private investigator, what if they're in danger, I've been too scared to even _think_ properly-"

"Granger," he said, but she ignored him.

She pulled away from him, patting her robes for her coin pouch. "I thought they were fine, but they're not, and I've spent hours pacing instead of _doing_ something-"

"Granger!" he snapped, snatching her arm.

"What?!" she snapped back, glaring at where he gripped her. "I have to go-"

"Why the hell is that coin burning a hole through your desk?" he asked, pointing over her shoulder.

"What do you-" she stopped short as she turned around, looking at the object on her desk. It was her D.A. coin from long ago that she'd kept for sentimental reasons. Not long ago, Harry had suggested that she modify the charm so that they could use their coins to communicate in emergencies-

"Harry!" she gasped, running over to the coin. She snatched up the coin, juggling it anxiously for a moment as it burned her palms, trying to read the words it read.

 _Entrance Hall,_ it said simply.

She tore out of the room, barely registering Draco calling out to her. She made it to the top of the staircase, pausing abruptly when an orange ball of fur streaked up the stairs, stopping at her feet.

"What the hell is that?" Draco said from behind her.

She heard his sharp intake of breath from behind her when he recognized her half-kneazle familiar. "Granger-" he started, but she could barely hear him over the loud thudding of her heart.

She raced down the steps, heart racing as she made it to the bottom of the steps. "Harry?" she called out, her voice laced with urgency.

She rushed forward, cursing the dim lighting in the entrance hall at this time of night. "Harry-" she stopped short as she saw the man in question standing in front of her.

"Hermione," he whispered, but she was no longer looking at him.

Instead, she was looking behind him at where the unconscious bodies of none other than Rose and Michael Granger lay on the marble floor.

"Harry," she breathed. "What have you done?"

* * *

 **21 is here earlier than I'd predicted! I'm still traveling a lot for work right now, but I'm not as busy as I was in mid-February or so, so I feel comfortable releasing this a bit early. Thank you all for following - I cherish every one of your reviews, no matter how short.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A note about some of the comments from the last chapter: I didn't get to reply to you all, but some speculated that not enough time had passed for Harry to be the one who retrieved her parents. In the scene where he came back, it was late afternoon. By the time she was in her room with Draco, it was evening - quite a few hours had actually passed since he'd come back. Sorry for any confusion - the timeframe should be clearer in this chapter.**

 **As always, a huge thank you to RESimon for being such a wonderful beta.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

"They're not dead," Harry rushed. "They- I put them to sleep, so it was easier."

She lifted a trembling hand and ran it through her mother's flowing brown locks, tears springing to her eyes as she felt the weight of it. She ran a finger across her father's chin, feeling the slight stubble prickling her fingers. It was real, they were so startlingly real, and she choked out a sob at the realization that they were truly there, right in front of her.

"Merlin, Potter," Draco breathed.

"How did you-?" Hermione whispered, eyes raking over their slumbering figures.

"I had to go back. I asked around some more and eventually, I found someone who knew where they'd gone. They moved house. To be closer to the beach," he explained quietly.

"Harry," she whispered, searching his shining green eyes. She reached out and grasped his hands, communicating the words she couldn't voice.

"We have to hide them," she said when she found her voice, searching Harry's eyes worriedly. "If the Ministry finds out what you've done-"

Harry pulled her into a hug. "Don't worry about me, Hermione," he said into her hair. "Let's just figure this out first, alright?"

"We can keep them in the dungeons for now," Draco suggested.

Hermione stepped away from Harry, eyes shooting from her parents to the entrance to the dungeons nervously. "I…" she started, thinking of her brooding husband.

"He won't stop us," Draco assured her quietly, moving over to kiss her forehead.

She gave him a soft nod, then swallowed nervously as she looked back at her parents' bodies. She watched as Harry and Draco each mumbled levitation spells until they each had one of her parents' bodies floating gently in front of them as they made their way to the entrance to the dungeons.

There were footsteps then, and three sets of panicked eyes swung towards the sound. Before Hermione could rush out a quick disillusionment spell, Sirius appeared from inside a sitting room.

"What are you-" Sirius stopped short as he took in the sight in front of him.

"Sirius," Hermione whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "We have to move them, no one can know-"

He moved over and scooped her into a hug, planting a kiss on her hair. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with understanding. "You look just like them," he said, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. He turned and nodded at Harry and Draco, and they began making their way into the dungeons.

Hermione's heartbeat fluttered the closer they got to the bottom of the stone steps, wondering what kind of reaction the presence of two unconscious muggles would elicit from him. The sounds of the four sets of footsteps would have surely alerted him by now, and she waited with bated breath for him to appear swathed in his dark robes with eyes that appeared even darker with anger.

When they turned the next corner, they found him there, looming in the middle of the corridor ahead of them, his expression every bit as dark as his clothing, exactly as she had anticipated.

"What is the meaning of your presence?" he articulated disdainfully, looking down his nose at the lot of them as if he wished nothing more than to hex them all.

Draco stepped forward while Hermione opened and then closed her mouth, failing to find words in the man's intimidating presence. "We need your help."

"I am not inclined to give it," he clipped, eyes flicking over her parents' bodies.

Draco followed his gaze. "Please," he begged. "You know how little I ask of you…" he trailed off, eyes flicking between Hermione and her parents' floating bodies. "They're her parents," he said softly.

Severus' eyes flicked to her momentarily before landing back on her parents. "I fail to see how they concern me," he said.

"We have to hide them," Harry spoke up. "For now, at least-" he cut off at the sound of footsteps echoing in the hall behind them.

Hermione's eyes flew to Harry's panicked ones, and down to her parents' bodies before they halted at the corner they'd just came from. A moment later, none other than Lucius Malfoy stepped around the corner, looking every bit as livid as Severus did when they'd emerged from the same place moments earlier.

He swept his grey eyes over them, then her parents' bodies, before flicking up to Harry, centering his rage on him. "Mr. Potter," he snapped, "May I ask why you have taken such liberties as to bring muggles into my home?" He looked back at her parents' bodies with disgust.

"They're Hermione's parents," Harry explained, meeting Lucius' eyes defiantly.

"That does not suffice to explain why you have brought them here," he said, continuing to look down at them with a look of abject disgust.

"You-"

"They're her parents, father," Draco said, cutting off the angry retort that had begun to tumble from Harry's lips.

"They've been obliviated," She finally found her voice, and she swallowed the lump in her throat before looking up to meet Lucius' eyes. She felt a soothing hand rubbing circles on her back, and she leaned gratefully into Sirius' touch. "I-I obliviated them, and they no longer have a home here, they think they've retired in Australia and I-" she hiccuped before clapping a hand over her mouth, stifling the sobs that threatened to burst forth.

"Just let us keep them here until we can figure out what to do with them," Harry pleaded softly. "If the Ministry finds out what I've done-"

Sirius' hand stopped rubbing her abruptly, and she felt him stiffen behind her. "Harry," he said quietly in a tone she'd never heard him use before. "How did they get here?"

Harry looked down at the stone floor, avoiding Sirius' eyes. "I…"

"When I saw you this afternoon, you said that you'd only been in Australia for a few hours for your assignment," Sirius' tone was hard. "So how are they here now?"

"Sirius," Harry said quietly. "You have to understand, I had to go back-"

"You went back?!" Sirius snapped, stepping away from Hermione to bear down on Harry, eyes teeming with rage.

"Yes, I couldn't just-"

"You went back after your travel privileges expired, in full defiance of the laws that the Ministry-"

"If they put me in Azkaban for it, then so be it," Harry said, eyes shining with defiance. "It was worth it."

"You bloody fool!" Sirius thundered. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Hermione shrank back at the force of the man's outburst. She'd hadn't heard him so much as raise his voice at anyone since his return from the veil, and the only time she'd ever heard more rage in it was the first night she had met him, in the Shrieking Shack.

"Sirius, I…" Harry trailed off at the sight of the rage burning in Sirius' grey eyes.

He snatched Harry's shoulders and shook him angrily. "Do you think their threats of Azkaban are to be taken lightly? You would never survive in there, Harry!"

Harry's green eyes were bright with fear and shame under his admonishment by the closest thing to a father figure that he had. "But-"

"But nothing Harry," Sirius spat, before storming away.

Silence descended upon them in the wake of Sirius' outburst, and Hermione's heart clenched at the thought of the rift she'd caused between the two men.

"We'll give them a memory potion then have them on their way," Draco broke the silence, moving over to her parents.

"We can't," Hermione whispered, watching as Draco stooped over her parents, watching them intently. "It's been years, Draco,"

He looked up at her with concern evident on his face. "What does that mean?" he asked softly.

"It means that their minds are beyond recuperation with a simple potion," Severus spoke. She looked up at him in surprise. His eyes were still hard with anger, but the look he gave her parents' bodies was calculating.

"I was...extensive," she whispered, worrying at her bottom lip as she felt the reality of her actions descending upon them. "They need more than just a potion, now. Much more," she added, feeling a stray tear leak down her cheek.

Her eyes strayed to Severus, whose eyes were now trained on her as if anticipating her next words. "Please," the words began tumbling out of her in a torrent, and she hadn't the time to filter out her desperation as it laced every word. "Please, Severus, you've mastered the art, and I can't-I can't lose them, please," she blubbered, tears flowing freely.

"Hermione!" Harry caught her as she stumbled to her knees, sobbing. "Hermione, calm down, please- what is she talking about?" she heard him ask.

"She speaks of Legilimency," Lucius answered lowly. "Only a master Legilimens has the ability to restore a mind from an obliviation this extensive."

She managed to control her sobs long enough to catch the look Lucius and Severus shared above her.

"Please," she let out another broken whisper before dissolving into tears once more, burying her head in Harry's chest. She sobbed for a long while before she caught movement in her peripheral vision.

"Where-?" she asked, panicked. She dimly felt Harry pulling her to her feet, as she watched Lucius levitate her parents' bodies down the corridor.

"Come," Severus clipped with a sharp nod towards where Lucius led the bodies.

She followed quietly, still gripping Harry's arm tightly. Lucius led them to a room further down the hall, where she watched as he transfigured abandoned furniture into two small cots, upon which he rested her parents' bodies. He then summoned a small stool and sat next to her mother's cot, lifting his hands to either side of her face.

She crossed the room quickly, snatching his wrist. "What are you doing?"

He glared at where she gripped him, wrenching himself from her grip effortlessly.

"He is a master Legilimens as well," Severus spoke from behind her. "If we are to reverse what you have done, I will be in need of his assistance."

She looked to Severus, then back to Lucius, eyes still distrustful.

"They may be nothing to you, but they are everything to me," she said softly.

Lucius' grey eyes were hard and unreadable as he watched her for a moment before giving her a nearly imperceptible nod.

She stepped back, wringing her hands anxiously as she alternated between watching each of the two men work on her parents, hands at their temples and eyes focused hard on her parents' expressionless ones as they held them open magically.

It was silent for a long while, save for the mingled breaths of the room's occupants. She barely registered when Draco and Harry each walked up to her, one rubbing reassuring circles on her back while the other held her hand.

Eventually, Lucius let go of her mother, laying her head back down on the cot. A moment later, Severus did the same with her father. They both turned to look at each other, their expressions still as hard and unreadable as they had been when they'd begun.

"Tell me, please," she begged softly, her heart thumping in fear.

Severus spoke first. "Obliviations this extensive have been known to lead to...complications," he said. Her heart thundered in her chest as he met her eyes before speaking his next words. "As I am certain you are aware, their minds have been under tremendous amounts of stress as they've tried to adjust to the new memories that have replaced their original ones."

She nodded, feeling an all-too-familiar lump rising in her throat yet again as he spoke.

"Their old memories have been buried beneath the new ones, and they have been relying on their new memories to furnish all their memories of their lives. They do not, however, have enough new memories to fill every gap created by the suppression of their old memories. As a result, each time a hint of something they once knew that was no longer there came to them, the gaps in their missing memories widened. Over time, those gaps have widened enough that their minds slowly began to collapse in on themselves."

A dreadful silence descended upon them in the wake of his words.

"What can we do?" Draco's voice was soft with concern.

"I'm losing them," Hermione whispered, feeling her eyes start to fill with tears once again. She swallowed and blinked them back, refusing to dissolve under the pain once again. "What can be done?" she asked. Her voice was still shaky, but decidedly more assured than it had been previously.

"We can try removing their new memories and coaxing their true memories back to the surface," Severus. "It may not work."

She nodded, swallowing again as she recalled the dire warnings in the texts she'd pored over before making the final, heart-wrenching decision that had lead her here.

"What...what are the risks?" Harry asked.

"Insanity," Lucius said bluntly. "Possibly death. Muggle minds are fickle, and they have no magic to protect their minds from this level of break down."

"We can try anyway," Hermione said. "Please," she added, looking between the two men until they each gave her a small nod.

"Thank you," she added in a whisper, summoning a stool to sit and observe.

 **X**

It was late, very late, and most of the light in the drawing room came from the large fire burning in the Malfoys' sprawling fireplace. Those who had been roused from their beds were still clad in nightclothes and dressing gowns, looking alert and concerned as they surveyed the faces of those who had yet to retire for the evening. All of her husbands save for Sirius were present, and she felt their eyes watching her as they waited for her to speak.

"What happened, Hermione?" Kingsley spoke first.

Her eyes were trained in her lap, and she bit her lip to stop herself from bursting into tears once again. She'd watched Lucius and Severus alternate between pulling memories from her parents' minds and sifting their heads for their most damaged area in an attempt to knit their minds back together before they unraveled completely. As of now, it was looking dire - very dire, and there had been only a shallow pool of silvery fluid in each of their pensieves by the time they'd had to stop for the night, lest the strain send her parents' minds into distress.

"I…" she looked up finally, meeting his kindly dark eyes. "My…"

Harry squeezed her thigh from where he sat on the sofa beside her. "It's her parents," he said. "We have them, in the dungeons."

Kingsley's eyebrows rose considerably. "In... the dungeons?"

"Kingsley," she said, searching his eyes. "You know I wouldn't ask this of you if I wasn't desperate-"

"Tell me and I'll do it," the man said without hesitation, his eyes shining with sincerity.

She gave him a watery smile. "Harry...he went back to Australia, and brought them back," she explained. "After...after his assignment, I mean."

The weight of the implication of her words settled upon him then, and she heard Arthur's sharp intake of breath from beside Kingsley.

"Harry," Arthur said. "You didn't-?" he asked.

"I had to," Harry explained.

"They might not have made it if he hadn't gone," Hermione said. "They...they still might not," she added quietly as Arthur nodded in understanding.

"I will ensure that what he did will not be discovered," Kingsley assured them. "You did the right thing, Harry," he added.

"Thank you, Kingsley," she said, meeting his eyes again.

"You are my wife," he answered simply. "Protecting the interests of this family comes above my obligations to my role in Office."

"Thank you," Harry said, and the men shared a nod.

"What can be done about your parents, Hermione?" Neville asked, concern marring his features.

"The degree and scope of the obliviation I performed was… not entirely legal," she explained, twisting her hands in her lap nervously. "St. Mungo's rarely agrees to treat muggle patients, regardless, and what they now require is the work of an experienced Legilimens," she continued. "Both Lucius and Severus have agreed to help."

The two men in question were sitting in high backed chairs across the room, and neither had uttered a word since Harry had woken the household.

"Their recovery may take months," Hermione continued. "We'll need to keep it quiet until we know more. If the Wizengamot or the DMLE were to find out that my parents are here with us after having seemingly disappeared for years, it may draw too much unwanted attention to where they've been and when they came back, and…" she trailed off as the men in the room nodded in understanding.

Somber silence descended upon the room in the wake of the realization of what was to come, causing Hermione's anxiety to spike all the more.

"We'll get through this, 'Mione," Harry assured her, squeezing her thigh.

She nodded mutely, hoping beyond what reason has shown her thus far that they somehow would.

 **X**

It was nearly silent in the room, save for Hermione's shallow breaths that felt overly loud to her own ears. She peeked at the two pensieves, her heart dropping slightly as she saw how little they held. They had almost removed her from the room days before due to her constant hovering, but she'd insisted on remaining by reminding them that it would be best to have a healer present while they worked. Still, she could sense their annoyance at her closeness.

Lucius stood after a few hours, giving her only a slight nod before disappearing through the door. Her heart thumped as she realized that she was now alone with Severus for the first time in months.

"He is...happy," Severus spoke when he pulled back to deposit a memory into her father's pensieve, finally piercing the silence.

Hermione whipped up her head in shock, surprised that the man had spoken after days of only minimal words shared between them. "Happy?" she said softly, looking down at her father's unconscious body.

Severus turned to her, giving her a soft nod. "He thinks of you," he said, his tone gentler than she recalled it ever having been.

"Oh," she choked out, clapping a hand over her mouth before a louder sob could escape. She stepped closer until she could run a hand through his wavy chestnut hair. "I love you, so so very much," she whispered, looking into his hazel eyes that were wide and unseeing. It was so haunting that she yearned to force them closed.

"And I am sorry," she said after watching him quietly for a few long moments. "So, so very sorry," she whispered brokenly, kissing her father on his cheek.

She gave her father a soft, sad, smile, wishing beyond hope that she would someday see those eyes trained on her once again, alight with recognition and love as she was so used to seeing.

"Thank you," she whispered to Severus, looking up from her father to see find him watching her.

She watched him back curiously, waiting to see if he would speak. He said nothing and instead turned back to her father.

"He feels no pain," Severus said quietly when he withdrew another sliver of a memory and deposited it in the pensieve next to him. "You clearly have a strong bond with them," he added.

Hermione's eyebrows rose at his words, and she wondered what else he had seen in her father's mind for him to make such observations. She bit her lip nervously as she looked back at her father, realizing that Severus and Lucius now likely knew every intimate detail of her parents' lives, including her relationship with them.

"Thank you, Severus," she said, folding a hand over his. Her rings shifted to a rich ebony for a moment until he pulled his hand away, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"I hope that…" she started softly. "I hope that, someday, Emma can have a similar relationship with you."

His shoulders tensed, and she wondered if he would respond at all. "Is she well?" he asked. His voice was so low that she wondered if she would have heard him if she hadn't been standing as close to him as she was.

She nodded before remembering that he was facing away from her and could not see the gesture. "Yes," she answered. "She's happy," she added.

He gave a soft nod, then moved to pick up her father's head from where it lay once more.

"She needs you," Hermione added. "She needs her father, even if you don't think so," she said. "She...she loves her step-fathers, but I can tell that she knows that they aren't you."

He was quiet and remained facing away from her. She doubted herself as to whether he had actually nodded, or if she had imagined it. She wondered further over whether the nod, had it not been a figment of her hopeful delusions, was a dismissal.

"I'm sorry," the words tumbled out before she could stop herself.

Severus paused again, laying her father's head back onto his pillow. He did not turn, but she watched his shoulders tense slightly once more.

"I'm sorry for...many things," she added. "I didn't mean to-"

"You have only ever done exactly what you meant," he cut her off in a clipped tone.

"Severus, I…" she hesitated. "I couldn't let you die," she said.

"Yes, you could have, had you deigned to respect my wishes."

"Why?" she asked quietly. "Why did you want to die so badly?"

He turned to face her. "It matters not what my reasons were, only that you so boldly defied them," he snapped.

"I don't regret it," she "You deserve to live-"

He silenced her with a dark glare. "I deserve a choice in all matters surrounding my life and my death. But instead of respecting these wishes, you decided to proceed as you wished, without a care for what I desired."

"If you believe that I would have just let you die like that-"

"You made a choice, Miss Granger, and there is nothing more or less to it than that."

"How could I have possibly left you there to die, knowing I could have saved you? How could I have known-"

"You were the one who saw what I was trying to share, and you should have understood that I would not have shared it unless I was on the brink of death," he snapped.

The memories. But of course, she'd forgotten about the memories that had slipped from his eyes like ghostly tears as the life rapidly drained from his body, causing her to gather them in frantic desperation and shove them into Harry's hands before sending them off. The memories that had contained his deepest desires, that Harry had confided in her about, that Harry then spat back at him in a moment of vicious anger-

Oh. She searched his eyes, watching the anger bubbling beneath the surface of his expression. She wanted to probe deeper and find the pain that she knew lingered there.

"I am so sorry, Severus," she breathed, reaching out a hand to cover his with her own. Her rings shifted to ebony for a moment before he snatched his hand away as if it burned.

"Your apologies are nothing to me," he seethed.

"I didn't mean-"

"There are many things you did not mean to do, yet you have done them regardless."

"Lily would have wanted you to live," she said softly.

"You know nothing of what she would or would not have wanted!" his voice raised an octave as he snapped at her. "Do not dare speak of her as if you know her, as if her name is something you will ever earn the right to speak in my presence. Those memories were mine, and mine alone to share, and I would not have done so for any reason other than my being on the brink of death."

"Harry didn't mean to hurt or humiliate you, he was just frustrated-"

"I care not about Mr. Potter's petty afflictions," he said. "What I care about is that what I shared with him was only to be shared in confidence, and he continues to flaunt his knowledge of my personal affairs like a brazen child."

"Neither Harry nor I meant to take any liberties, Severus," she said.

"Did you not?" he spat bitterly. "Haven't most of your actions with me of late been the result of generous liberties you have taken?"

"Severus, I-" she paused, reflecting on the liberties of which he spoke. "I saved you, and you did not want it. You are now bound to me, although you did not wish to be. I am now the mother of your child," she added with a pained tightness in her chest, "-although you did not want that, either. But do not ask me if I regret saving you, because the answer will always be no."

He continued to glare at her, eyes still as hard and dark as ever.

"You are a good man, Severus," she said. "A great man," she added. "You know as well as I that we may have succumbed to the plague without your inoculation. You have saved us all, and you deserve all the praise and recognition you have earned for it. And Emma-" She watched as he stiffened slightly, although he remained silent. "-as she grows, you will come to be the center of her life. I cannot force you to want me, but I beg of you to try with her regardless."

He looked away from her this time instead of continuing to glare.

"I cannot imagine how difficult it must be for you to have to adjust to this new life that you had no desire for," she added softly. "And I realize now that I am at the center of it. And for that - for that I will always be sorry," she added in a whisper.

He did not reply, but instead lifted her father's head again, preparing to dive into the man's mind once more. She lapsed back into silence, watching him work as a multitude of thoughts weighed heavily on her mind, and even heavier upon her heart.


	23. Chapter 23

**A couple of trigger warnings apply for this chapter: The first is a brief mention of suicide, and the second is a question that may be interpreted as an implied inquiry about if she has had any past miscarriages (this one is very light though, and it's doubtful that most would interpret it so. Still, I know it is a sensitive subject for some and wanted to include this warning regardless).**

 **As always, thank you to RESimon for being such a wonderful beta!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

Twenty-two days. It had been twenty-two days since Harry had brought her parents back to her, and twenty-two days since they'd been placed in magically-induced comas while Lucius and Severus worked on restoring their minds. The pensieves were still only just over half-full, a sign of how painstaking the process had been. With each day that passed, Hermione's anxiety grew exponentially, suffocating her.

Currently, she was sitting on her bed, nursing Emma who sucked away happily, unaware of her mother's distress. She cuddled her infant closer to her chest, letting her eyes flutter closed as she relished in the grounded reality of her daughter's scent and warmth. There was a soft knock on her door, and she called out for her visitor to come in, eyes still trained on the sprawling grounds outside of her window.

"How are you doing?" Neville asked, sitting down beside her.

"I'm…" she trailed off, knowing that each of her husbands had become attuned to her mounting anxiety. She hadn't bothered to lie to them, instead, accepting their long hug and words of comfort.

"We will get through this," he promised her, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek before doing the same to Emma's curls.

"Will we?" she mumbled, feeling tears gathering in her eyes as they oft had of late.

"Hermione," Neville said, slipping an arm around her waist. "Look at me," he urged.

When she turned to face him, he immediately saw the tears gathering in her eyes. "Please talk to me," he begged.

"Neville, I…" she looked back into his eyes, and the concern that shone within them. "I can't burden you with this, you're so kind, so positive-"

"Hermione," he cut her off. "Is that all you see in me?" he said, frowning slightly.

"It's not all, Neville, but-"

"Can I take you somewhere?" he asked. "There's something I need to show you."

She searched his eyes, seeing an unfamiliar hardness there.

"My parents," he explained in a whisper. "Would you like to visit them with me?"

"Of course," she said, taking his hand and squeezing it. "Of course."

 **X**

They were soon stepping into an elevator at St. Mungo's, and, as Neville pressed the fourth-floor button for the Janus Thickey Ward, Hermione could not help but wonder if she would soon be visiting here regularly not just to see her in-laws, but her own parents as well. The thought had her heart racing and tears welling in her eyes, and Neville looked down at her, concerned.

"Are you alright?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She nodded mutely, swallowing nervously as the doors opened and she followed him out. It was the only floor she'd never been assigned to, and she felt her heart drop in her chest as she noticed how full it was. The last time she'd been here, it had been relatively quiet, and only a few patients had been milling about. Now, though, there were dozens in the hallway alone, being tended to by healers who wore special robes indicating their permanent placement in this ward. She swallowed again, recalling the number of healers that had been re-assigned to this floor after victims of the war had begun pouring in.

Neville paid the other residents no mind, weaving through them easily as he walked the familiar path to his parents' rooms. He stopped outside of the room marked _Alice Longbottom_ , nodding at her before sliding open the door.

She had flowing blonde hair that swayed as she rocked quietly in the far corner of the sparsely furnished room, mumbling softly to herself. An overturned glass of pumpkin juice lay on the ground beside her, and Neville vanished it as he approached, kneeling down in front of her.

"Hello, mum," he said softly, reaching out to touch her hair. The woman froze at the contact but did not look up.

"Mum," she mumbled, her blank hazel eyes flicking up to her visitors for a moment before she resumed her rocking.

"Mum," he said again, watching her intently. "This is my wife, Hermione. Remember I've told you about her? She's the girl who helped me find Trevor on our first train ride to Hogwarts, she's been a good friend for a long time now." He gestured for her to approach, and she did, watching the woman carefully. "I've told you about how much I fancied her for years, and now she's my wife. Amazing, isn't it? I wish you could have been at the wedding," he added wistfully.

Hermione felt tears springing to her eyes at his confession, and squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

"Mum, mum, mum," the woman repeated to herself, continuing to rock.

Neville picked up her hand, then gestured for Hermione to take it. "It's alright," he said encouragingly. "She likes it."

Hermione nodded before folding the woman's hand in hers. "Hullo," she said softly. The woman did not react, but squeezed her hand tightly, slowing her rocking slightly.

"Some days…" Neville started, watching them with a small smile on his face. "Some days are worse than others."

"You look just like her," Hermione said truthfully, observing the same soft features in both the mother and son that sat beside her. "She's beautiful."

"Gran tells me that a lot," he smiled. "Apparently, my father had to fight hard to get even an ounce of attention from her," he added with a laugh.

Hermione smiled softly, still watching the woman. They sat in silence for a while, listening to her aimless mumbles. Eventually, Neville stood up, gesturing for her to follow.

"And...your father?" she asked quietly, Neville's shoulders tightened visibly at this question.

"They've," he cleared his throat and paused. "They've had to move him, temporarily," he said eventually, leading her further down the hall. They were soon away from the din of the main area of the floor, and walking down a hall where the doors were thicker and more sparsely placed along the hall.

"He's been more upset than usual, lately," Neville said softly when they stopped outside of a door marked _Frank Longbottom_. He raised his wand to the sliver of blackened glass at the door before pausing to look at her. "This might be difficult to see," he added, searching her eyes.

"I'll be alright," she said, squeezing his hand. He mumbled a quick spell, and the glass' opacity faded away, revealing the small, white room within. Unlike Alice's room, this room had only bare white walls and a small cot. Frank Longbottom stood in the middle of the room, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. It took Hermione a moment to realize that he was shouting something, his words silenced by the heavy charms fortifying the room. She watched as he fisted his dark hair angrily, before freezing abruptly. He was at the glass in a flash, spittle coating it as he screamed at his two visitors, his fists repeatedly smacking the warded door. Hermione stepped back, a hand clutching her chest as she watched the man unleash a tirade of unknown words at them before Neville abruptly tapped his wand against the glass, blackening it once more.

He nodded at her to sit with him in the chairs nearby, his expression hard and vacant. "He won't hurt himself," he said softly. "They warded against that long ago." He leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face as he exhaled slowly.

"Neville," she whispered, hoping the word communicated all of the affection she felt rising inside of her. "No one should have to endure something like this," she said, rubbing a comforting hand over his back.

Eventually, he gave her a soft nod. "No one should, but _I_ have," he said. "I've endured this, and worse."

She nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"You once asked me how I was faring, living with my boggart," he continued. "There are people here that I know - that _you_ know. Some of our classmates from Hogwarts, who I saw tortured so badly by the Carrows that they are now residents here, and will be for the rest of their lives. And that - _this_ -" his voice broke as he pointed to the door of his father's room "-is what I now fear more than anything. Losing anyone else, the way I lost them. Losing myself, even, and ending up like this - that would be the worst thing that could happen to me by far. So when you wonder if I understand - please don't ever forget that I do."

"Oh, Neville," she whispered, pulling him into her arms, feeling his silent tears wetting her shoulders as he cried. She soon felt her own tears leaking down her face and drew him closer, crying for the pain they'd both endured.

 **X**

It was late, very late, but Hermione was as alert as ever as she watched her two husbands work on her parents. The two men had been working longer than usual as the memories had begun to give more leeway to their extraction, although not nearly as quickly as Hermione hoped, and Hermione had refused to leave for even the shortest periods of time while they worked. It was nearly silent in the room, save for Hermione's heavy, anxious breaths as she watched them work.

Suddenly, her mother shot up in her cot, snatching Lucius' face as she wrenched him to face her. Hermione's heart caught in her throat at what she saw, but before she could say anything, her mother began to speak.

"I have a daughter," the woman said urgently, clutching hard at Lucius' face as she spoke. Her chocolate brown eyes were wide with fear. "I have a daughter, please, she's just a girl-" the woman's words were cut off as she gurgled suddenly, and she fell back onto the bed, convulsing.

At that, Hermione screamed. She dimly registered Lucius and Severus holding her mother's flailing limbs down as she thrashed about, blood leaking from her mouth. Hermione worked in a panicked frenzy, siphoning away the blood even as it began to gush harder from her mother's mouth. She shouted out spells as she attempted to quell the seizure, which her mother's body absorbed to no effect. She sobbed as she threw a multitude of diagnostic spells in the air around them, all of which blared various warnings at them.

"No, no, no!" she cried, continuing to scream spell after spell as the convulsions caused her mother's body to contort in inhuman ways. She shot out several quick spells in desperation, sobbing as she tried to quell the chaos in front of her.

She felt a set of arms lock around her middle, dragging her away from the cot. A voice was speaking urgently into her ear, but she could not discern it over the noise in the room. It was then that she dimly registered that the noise was of her own making, her tortured screams filling the room with cacophonous noise.

"Let me go!" she screamed. "Let me go to her! I have to-"

A spell hit her square in the chest then, and she slumped forward, her world eclipsed by darkness.

 **X**

When she awoke, the first thing she registered was that she was wet - soaking wet. She blinked, attempting a lift a soaking arm before she realized that she was in her bathtub, fully clothed and submerged to her shoulders. Harry kneeled beside her, stroking her wet hair out of her eyes.

"'Mione," he mumbled softly, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle kiss.

She started to cry as the memories of what had transpired with her mother slammed back into her head. "My mother-"

"She's fine, Hermione," Harry soothed, reaching up to continue smoothing out her hair. "You're shaking, love," he added worriedly, casting a wandless warming charm on the water. "You were in shock," he explained, gesturing at her state.

"She was dying, Harry," she whimpered, reaching out to grip his shoulders. "She was _dying_."

"You saved her," he said. "You didn't notice, but you stopped the seizure before things got too bad. She's fine now, I promise," Harry assured her.

"She's not fine, she hasn't been fine since I obliviated her," Hermione sobbed.

"We will fix this," he assured her. "We _are_ fixing this."

She didn't realize that she'd started shaking until Harry stilled her shoulders. "I'm going to get you a calming draught," he said, giving her forehead a gentle kiss. "I'll be back soon."

She barely registered his words, her mind swirling with images of her mother's body contorted at unnatural angles, blood pouring from her mouth. A fresh onslaught of tears began flowing down her cheeks as she reflected on all that she had done to lead herself here, to this awful moment where she had no idea if her parents would live out the procedure. The pain of it all raged inside of her like an inferno, causing her to shrink back under the pressure of it all. She slipped a little deeper into the water, basking in its comforting warmth. She slid deeper still, letting it envelop her in its warm embrace until it covered her completely. The stillness under the water felt ethereal somehow, and she nearly felt the stress of the situation melting away under the influence of its eerie calamity-

She was dragged out of the bathtub abruptly, sputtering water out of her mouth to find Harry staring down at her, his face contorted with rage. "What the hell are you doing?!" he bellowed, shaking her. "Are you insane, Hermione? You could have died!"

She blinked up at him, her mind still bridging the gap between the calamity under the water and the noise of Harry's shouts.

"Answer me, please," he begged, cupping her cheeks. "Hermione, _please_ ," he said again, searching her eyes.

She blinked up at him, having missed his question. "What?" she croaked.

"I asked if that was what you were trying to do," he whispered. His eyes were chock full of emotion, and she wanted to shrink back under the weight of his gaze. "Were you trying to die?" he asked, his voice still soft and probing.

She shook her head softly. "No," she whispered.

"Promise me," Harry begged, and her heart clenched at the fear she saw reflected in his eyes.

"I wasn't, I promise," she said back. "I just…" she choked off with a sob, burying her face into Harry's shoulder.

He clutched her close as she sobbed, whispering words of assurance and love as she dissolved under the pain of it all.

 **X**

For days, Hermione did nothing but go through the motions of life mechanically, caring for Emma, presiding over her parents, and performing her marital duties, lest she bring down the Ministry's suspicions upon them. Her parents hadn't stirred since her mother's abrupt outburst, and she continued to hover anxiously as she awaited a breakthrough or disaster, prepared for either.

She'd rarely eaten meals with the rest of her husbands since her parents had been recovered, and so it was no surprise that Arthur had to venture into the basement to find her. She thought he'd come to coax her into eating, but was surprised to find his hands empty.

"Hullo, Hermione," the red-haired man said as he entered the room, giving her a gentle smile. "How are they doing today?"

"They're as well as can be expected," she answered quietly, eyes still riveted on where Severus and Lucius were bent over her parents' bodies.

"I'm afraid I have some rather unfortunate news," he said, frowning slightly.

At that, she looked up at him. "What happened? Is it someone in your family-?"

He shook his head immediately, and she let out a grateful breath. "Thank god," she said. "What is it, then?"

"It's the Ministry," he started, running a nervous hand through his hair. "They've written to inform us that an official will be arriving shortly, and all of our family members are due to be present."

"Oh," she said, her heartbeat beginning to speed up as she thought of the only reason that would have earned them such a visit. But of course they were sending someone - she knew they'd inquire eventually, yet she had hoped that the time would not come so soon.

"They wish to inquire as to why you have yet to conceive again," he said softly, watching her expression.

She'd nearly forgotten, having been so consumed by her parents that her lack of pregnancy had fallen to the back of her mind.

Arthur seemed to sense her rising panic and pulled her into a hug. "It'll be alright," he whispered, pulling back to give her a chaste kiss on the forehead.

She nodded, feeling entirely unconvinced. She turned to see that Lucius and Snape had already Disapparated, leaving them alone in the room with her parents' slumbering bodies.

"Shall we?" Arthur asked, and she nodded, taking a shaky breath as they Disapparated.

 **X**

The Ministry official was a stiff, beady-eyed woman, who wore tortoiseshell glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her stare was probing, her sharp features made all the more severe by the frown that deepened as she scanned the occupants of the room. She tapped her quill methodically against her parchment, its repeated sound the only noise in the room as the woman observed them.

"As you are all aware," she finally began, "It has come to the Ministry's attention that you have yet to conceive another child," she said, her eyes sharpening as they landed on Hermione.

She nodded stiffly, feeling cold dread spreading through her body as she awaited the woman's next words. Hermione felt as if she was burning under the heat of the woman's gaze, and she felt herself shrinking back into her seat. Kingsley pressed a soothing hand on the small of her back, rubbing in soft circles with his broad hands.

"If you are found to be in violation of the Marriage Law, your punishment may result in your immediate confinement in Azkaban from where you will continue to fulfill your duties to society until the Wizengamot makes a final decision on the severity of your transgressions."

The woman stopped for a lengthy pause, bearing down her gaze upon all of the occupants of the room once more before stopping on Hermione.

"While you are not the only family that has not been conceiving at a satisfactory rate, your case is most compelling because of the length of time it has been between your pregnancies, in addition to the public's view of such a...high profile family," she spoke the words as if they did not impress her in the least, but instead were an added burden. "It is my understanding that you have not once conceived since the birth of your daughter, one miss Emma Rose Snape, seven months ago?"

"No, I haven't," she replied quietly.

"As we have not received any alerts stating otherwise, am I correct in assuming that you have been having relations with each husband with whom you have not yet borne a child?"

"Yes," she answered, her voice stiff.

"And have you ever attempted the use of contraceptives in any form?" the woman implored, raising a manicured eyebrow.

Hermione shook her head "no".

"You are all aware of the enchantments within your rings, I presume?" the woman said, eyes flitting over the room. "The enchantments cancel out the effect of any contraceptive spells or potions. The only way to prevent this, of course, would be to remove your wife's ring, which can only be done at the acquiescence of all of her husbands. Should you chose to do so, however, the Ministry would be informed immediately, and swift repercussions will follow." She waited until each person in the room nodded in understanding.

But of course, that was how the enchantments worked. It felt nearly perverse how the Ministry dangled their duties of procreation over their heads, leaving them with the choice of continuing to bear children once the mandatory amount had been born, or refraining from sex completely. But she knew that this is what it had come to - she'd run the numbers herself, many times, and she now needed to endure.

"Good," she said. "Now, I presume that you all are also aware that your seed must be spilled within your wife during copulation, and she is forbidden from cleaning it away for thirty minutes post-coitus?"

Again, everyone in the room nodded, and Hermione swallowed thickly under the weight of the woman's gaze.

She gave a sharp nod before continuing, all the while jotting various notes down on her parchment. "The Ministry has created a list of optimal sexual positions to maximize fertility," she said, waving her wand in the air and producing a series of diagrams that featured various sex positions, along with detailed descriptions accompanying each. She waved her wand again, sending brochures flying into the hands of each of her husbands. Under normal circumstances, she would have been scandalized, but instead, all she felt was anxiety mounting within her as the woman continued speaking. "We highly encourage you to familiarize yourselves with them and use them during coitus."

"This visit has been preliminary, and is meant to warn and educate you on the process," the woman said. "Each of you, however, will be required to attend an examination at St. Mungo's to assess your fertility. Should any of you be found to be in a state that is contradictory to the answers you gave earlier, you will be subject to an immediate hearing, where veritaserum will be administered to verify the veracity of your claims before you will be punished accordingly.

"For now," she turned to Hermione once more, "You will be required to resume daily relations with a cycle of all eight of your husbands, under penalty of law."

With a final nod, the woman stood and exited the room, escorted out by a house elf that materialized by the doorway.

It was silent for a long beat before Harry spoke. "Hermione," he said softly. "It'll be-"

"Stop saying it'll be alright," she deadpanned, storming out of the room before anyone else could speak.

* * *

 **Reviews mean the world to me. For chapter previews or just to interact with me, you can add me on tumblr as blankfishxx or on Facebook as Blank Fish.**


	24. Chapter 24

**As always, thank you to RESimon for being such a wonderful beta.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

It was late evening when Hermione Apparated into Severus' lab, looking anxiously at the open doorway. Realistically, she knew that her parents were in magical comas with little chance of waking up on their own. Still, she feared them walking in on her in her current state. Although she was nearly fully covered, she was wearing a silky, floor-length dressing gown with a matching slip underneath, the most demure ensemble she could find in her lingerie closet. At the time she'd decided to put it on, she'd thought it would give her the courage she needed to propel herself forward on this night. Instead, she felt ridiculous and exposed in the chilly dungeons, going to meet a man that she could barely call her husband.

She turned to the door at the far corner of the room that had always stayed firmly closed during the time she'd spent brewing with him, suspecting that it lead to his private chambers. She swallowed thickly, then crossed over it to it, knocking softly. There was no answer, so she knocked again, louder this time.

When there was no answer yet again, she bit her lip nervously, weighing her options. She could leave and wait for him to find her, although she found it entirely doubtful that he would try. She could leave and come back, but it was already quite late, and she knew that he'd spent nearly seven hours working on her father that day. No, now would have to do - before she lost her nerve.

She knocked once more, and when there was no answer, she pushed the door open tentatively, revealing the sitting room beyond. It was furnished with elegant emerald-colored furniture and appeared quite cozy despite the cool and rigid demeanor of its only occupant. She scanned the room before slowly approaching the large, high backed chaise that faced the sprawling fireplace. When she peeked around it, however, she was surprised to find that he was not seated there, either.

She swallowed thickly, realizing that she would likely have to seek him out in his bedroom, a place that was decidedly more intimate to him than his sitting room. She spied a door that was slightly ajar and peeked inside to see that it was a loo that was only slightly less grand than her own. Her steps were small and nervous as she moved to the next door across the room, knocking softly.

"Severus?" she called. As before, there was no answer, but she paused for a moment before turning the knob and letting herself in. This time, she found herself inside of a surprisingly modestly-sized bedroom, although it was filled with furnishings as regal-looking as those in his sitting room.

The man himself was sitting on his large, canopied bed, nursing a near-empty glass of amber liquid. Instead of sneering at her for encroaching upon his private space, however, he did not move.

"Severus," she called, her voice low and gentle. At the sound of her voice, he looked up, and she paused her approach at what she saw.

When she met his eyes, she was instantly brought back to a time that now seemed so long ago, when she had been desperately trying to save his life, stopped short for a heart-wrenching second as he'd reached up and clutched her face, attempting to speak even as blood poured from his mouth. It had been a moment of complete vulnerability, raw and open to her.

And here it was again, shocking her into silence. With his cold demeanor stripped away, she saw the depths of pain and despair that swam in his dark eyes, revealing a man that was deeply broken. Hovering on the surface of it all was something akin to shame, although she knew not what it was for.

Her heart shattered at the sight, and she crossed to him quickly, gently cradling his face in her hands. He did not look away, holding her gaze as if daring her to buckle under the raw force of his emotions.

But she would not. Instead, her heart panged as she wondered how she had been so blind to miss the signs of what had been lingering beneath his hardened exterior.

He remained still, unblinking and unmoving, even as she pressed closer to him.

She slid her trembling hands down his chest, to his arms, back up to his face, and then to his chest again, feeling his every curve and contour as she tried to memorize the feel of his body and melt herself into him. When she paused at the topmost button of his robes, she searched his eyes once more, wondering if he would stop her. But he did not move, instead watching her every movement, still clutching his glass in his hand.

She unbuttoned his robes slowly, then used a gentle hand to pry his glass from his fingers and set it on his nightstand. She slid his robes off his shoulders, and he neither aided nor impeded her. Once his robes were off, she took a moment to slide her hands down his chest, surprised to feel harder planes of muscle underneath his shirt than she'd previously suspected.

She leaned up, touching her forehead to his. She leaned up to place a kiss upon his forehead. She pulled back to unbutton his shirt, revealing the pale, scarred skin beneath. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his marred skin, running her fingers across each scar, leaning down so that she could press kisses along his abdomen.

He shuddered under her touch, and she took it as encouragement, moving her hands to run them along his thighs. When her fingers ghosted over his hardness, he sucked in a sharp breath above her, shuddering harder. She made quick work of the rest of his buttons but paused to slip off her dressing gown and slip before proceeding further. She watched his eyes slide over her naked body, and was at once intimidated and aroused by his perusal. Eventually, the latter won, and she stepped closer and then moved to straddle him, holding his gaze once again as his dark eyes rose to meet hers.

She reached down and pulled his length from its confines when he moved suddenly, clamping a hand down on her wrist.

Black eyes met brown, and they shared a long moment of silent communication. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she wondered if he would deny her now, having gotten this far. Finally, he gave a soft nod and released her wrists, allowing her to mumble a quick lubrication charm. She ran her now-slickened fingers over his hard length before lining him up at her entrance.

She gasped as she slowly lowered herself onto him, shuddering at the feel of his thick length filling her. He was large - very large, and she'd nearly forgotten how full she'd felt the first time they'd been intimate, which felt like so long ago. She lowered herself slowly, squeezing her eyes shut as she was overwhelmed with sensation. She paused her descent, reaching a hand down to grasp his length, realizing that she still only had half of him inside her.

She let out a breath, starting to descend once again, when he moved again, this time clutching her close and flipping them until she lay on her back on the bed, looking up at him. He slid in a fraction deeper, and she let her eyes flutter closed, gasping once more. He continued to slide in until he was buried to the hilt, and she reached up, pulling him down on top of her until she could feel every plane of his hard muscle pressed against her. She gasped and moaned as he started to move, wrapping her legs around his waist as he thrust deep into her.

"Severus!" she gasped, clutching him harder as he angled his pelvis slightly, allowing him to brush against her clit with his every movement.

Their coupling was slow and sensual, and she found herself planting hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of his skin that she could reach. His noises amounted to little more than grunts, yet she felt the emotion pouring through his every movement and hoped she communicated the same in her own.

And when she came, she cried out, pulling him close until their bodies were an inextricable mass of writhing pleasure.

 **X**

When Hermione awoke, she was surprised to find that she was still in Severus' room, naked underneath his covers. She sat up, then started again as she realized that the man himself was sitting on top of the covers, fully dressed in his nightclothes. His eyes were trained away from her, and she reached out a hand to touch him.

"Severus?" she called gently, running a hand over his thigh.

"You may go," he said evenly, still not looking at her.

She froze, looking up at his hardened expression, so unlike what he had shown her earlier that evening. "Severus," she said softly. "Please don't do this."

"Do what, precisely?" he spat. "Defile my own student? Impregnate her - again?"

She cringed at his words. "You know very well that that is no longer our relationship," she said evenly. "We are husband and wife."

"Not of my own choosing," he shot back.

She sighed. "Will you ever stop using that as your excuse?" she asked, frowning.

"I am not using an excuse - it is the truth, and nothing more."

"We have a child together, Severus," she pleaded. "What will you tell her when she's older? That you never wanted this, and thus have no need for her, either?"

To this, the man gave no response, although a scowl continued to twist his features.

"Please stop shutting us out," she whispered, moving a hand to cover his. He did not pull away immediately, and she watched as her rings shifted to black, enjoying the feel of his warm hand beneath her own.

"You could be a good father if you tried," she continued. "You...you are a good man even if you will not admit it to yourself."

At that, he spat out a derisive laugh. "You know nothing of what you speak," he said. " _Good_ is not a definition I have ever fit into."

"You fought for the light," she reminded him. "You have saved my life, more than once."

His expression darkened for a moment. "You know nothing of what I have done," he breathed.

"Then tell me," she implored. "Tell me, so I can understand."

"I _chose_ the darkness. I chose to join the Death Eaters, of my own volition-"

"Just as you chose to switch sides when it was right," she reminded him.

"No- I chose _her_." His words were so quiet that she barely heard them.

"She loved you, too-" Hermione said, scanning his features and the pain that haunted them.

"You know not of what you speak," he said darkly.

"-Not in the way you wanted, no, but she loved you, enough so that she saw the good in you, even when others could not."

"You presume too much," he muttered.

"She was the reason that you went to Dumbledore, but you made the decision to continue fighting, even when you were faced with impossible circumstances." She swallowed, thinking of all the time he had spent shunned and alone, shuttered away in his rooms as he warred with the heavy burdens he'd decided to carry.

"I would have killed you, once," he said. "Does this not matter to you?"

She shook her head slowly, ignoring the painful memories of the war that threatened to resurface at his words. "No," she responded. "You saw the humanity in my kind and fought to save our lives, and for that, I will always be grateful."

"It is such a simple issue to you," he said bitterly. "You know nothing-"

"I know enough!" she snapped. "I know enough to know that you endured being a double agent, just so that you could bring Dumbledore invaluable information that likely helped our side win the war. I know-" her voice trembled slightly "- I know of what you had to endure while presiding over Hogwarts, forced to watch the students you strived to keep safe get tortured while under your watch. I cannot even begin to imagine how difficult your life has been, but it need not remain so."

"I am not a good man," he whispered. "I have done unspeakable things. Things that I am not deserving of forgiveness for."

"Is this...is this why you've been pushing Emma away?" she whispered back.

He did not answer, but his silence served as the only answer she needed.

"Severus," she whispered. "You can't- she deserves to know you, every part of you. Don't let your shame ruin your relationship with your daughter," she added. "You deserve to know her, to love her-"

"No."

"No-?!" Hermione sat up straighter, huffing angrily as she clutched the sheets to her bare chest. "What gives you the right to decide whether or not you get to be a part of her life?"

"She does not deserve to have me as her father," his voice was no longer angry but was instead laced with exhaustion.

She shook her head, reaching out her free hand to cup his face. "You deserve her," Hermione said, meeting his eyes when he finally looked at her. "You deserve her, to be loved by her, and so much more Severus," she added.

"Why?" His voice was raw, chock full of emotion that she couldn't recall ever hearing from him. Beneath his cold exterior was a deeply broken man, and it pained her that it had taken her so long to see it.

"Because even if you will not admit it to yourself, you want love and happiness, just like anyone else. And you can have it, if you'll stop pushing everyone away and _try_."

He had not yet pushed her hand away, and she was surprised when he turned her hand over in his own, staring intently at their rings, both displaying swirling depths of darkness.

His hand traced gentle circles along the back of her hand, trailing up her wrist to her forearm. Goosebumps raised on her skin in his wake, his touch like a trail of fire on her skin. He swept his fingers up further still, tracing gently up her arm until he reached her collarbone, tracing it lightly.

She watched him through hooded eyelids, anticipating his next move. When he did nothing beyond tracing her collarbone, she slowly let the sheet covering her chest drop, revealing her bare breasts to the chilly air of the room.

"Touch me," she pleaded quietly, meeting his eyes.

His fingers stopped moving, and he moved to pull back, tearing his eyes from her. Before he could complete the action, however, she snatched his hand, pressing it against her breast.

"Please," she whispered, sliding over until she straddled him, her nakedness contrasting sharply against his dark nightclothes. She ground herself once against his groin, feeling triumphant when she felt a telltale hardness stirring at his groin.

"Take me, Severus," she said.

"Take you?" he spat, his voice low and bitter. "Take you, as if you are cattle to be bred-"

"Am I not allowed to want you?" she whispered, grinding against him once more and deliberately pressing her slick core against his groin.

He shuddered out a sharp breath at her movement, his hands seizing her thighs. Black eyes meant brown once more, the only sound in the room their mingled breaths as they stared each other down, waiting to see who would make the next move.

In the end, it was him. He moved forward suddenly, dragging her into a searing kiss. She melted into it, arousal tearing through her in an inferno. It felt as if he was devouring her, unleashing all of his pain and tension into this one, scorching kiss. She accepted it eagerly, pressing closer and closer still, melding her body into his. When she felt his bare length at her slit once more, she slid down with a moan, letting the inferno of lust consume them until all that remained were flames.

* * *

 **To my Sevmione/Snamione shippers - hopefully you've tucked your pitchforks away for a little bit, hahaha. This relationship has been a very slow burn, I know - we can't forget that this is Severus Snape, after all.**


	25. Chapter 25

**As always, thank you to RESimon for being such a wonderful beta.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

In many ways, St. Mungo's had become a second home for Hermione. It was crisp and orderly, and it was easy to dive into the methodical practice of what she knew, drawing from her intelligence instead of her emotions as she so often did when she was at home. On this day, however, she couldn't feel more out of place, even as she sat in a small waiting room that had become so familiar to her.

Arthur held her hand tightly in his, occasionally squeezing it reassuringly. They were the only two people in the room, the silence overwhelmed her.

"Hermione," Arthur called softly.

She looked up at him, knowing her eyes betrayed just how nervous she was.

"Relax," he said, kissing her forehead. She leaned into it, tilting her head when he put a finger under her chin, coaxing her into a sweet kiss. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, letting the kiss linger as she melted in the comfort of his embrace.

A throat cleared and they sprang apart abruptly. When Hermione looked up, her throat went dry.

None other than Molly stood in front of them, smiling awkwardly at them.

"H-hullo, Molly," Hermione stuttered, flushing.

"Hello, Hermione," she said softly. Dean walked in behind her, giving them friendly waves.

"What brings you in today?" he asked, carefully helping Molly into a seat with one hand on her back and the other plastered over the woman's bulging belly.

Molly caught Hermione's gaze and rubbed her bump affectionately. "My third- or rather tenth, I suppose," she said softly. "It's a girl." Molly looked past her at Arthur, exchanging unspoken words with her ex-husband.

"You expecting again, Hermione?" Dean said, smiling at her.

Hermione couldn't mask the drop in her expression at Dean's question, and Arthur rubbed her back softly. "No, not at the moment," he answered for her.

"Oh," Dean answered easily. "Lucky you, then. John and Lydia are quite the handfuls already, don't know how we'll manage with a house full."

"So you just have the one, then?" Molly asked, surprise evident in her tone.

Hermione looked up at that and gave her a quick smile that she knew did not meet her eyes. "Yes," she said softly.

"Oh," Molly answered quietly, and the room dropped into an awkward silence.

Hermione began wringing her fingers as she peered anxiously at the waiting room's open doorway, praying that a healer would show up and whisk them away.

As if on cue, a short, silver-haired healer appeared then. "Mrs. Weasley?" she called.

Hermione froze for a moment as she made to stand, a blush tinting her cheeks as she steadily avoided looking in Molly's direction. She sprang up after another moment of hesitation, eager to exit the room. As they passed by Molly, the older woman reached out a hand and caught Hermione's arm.

"It'll happen soon," she said quietly, giving Hermione's arm a reassuring squeeze. Her eyes shone with sincerity, and for once were devoid of the pain Hermione had grown accustomed to seeing in them over the months.

"Thank you," Hermione said, giving the woman a small but genuine smile.

"Cheers, then," Dean called as she nodded at him before following Arthur and the healer into the hall.

Only a few minutes later, she was lying on her back with her feet in stirrups while the healer examined her most intimate parts. Arthur held her hand gently, squeezing it whenever her eyes met his. The healer was silent as she worked, which only served to augment Hermione's trepidation.

"You're doing great," Arthur assured her, giving her a quick kiss.

"Thank you," she said, looking back at where the healer worked between her legs.

"Have you been having any monthlies?" the healer asked. "You should experiencing them for a day or two at the most," she explained.

"No," Hermione answered.

"Good. Most bound witches should be experiencing only a few days of bleeding a month, although most are expected to stop bleeding completely within a year or two."

Hermione nodded as the woman continued to poke and prod at her nether regions, forcing herself not to squirm.

Eventually, the healer pulled back, flicking her wand to fix Hermione's clothing once she'd removed her feet from the stirrups.

"All is normal, and the fertility enchantments in your ring have been confirmed to be in perfect working order," the healer spoke, and Hermione let out a small sigh of relief. "What this means, then, is that your difficulties are being caused by external factors," she said, looking between Hermione and Arthur. "We understand that you have been thrust into a difficult situation and that your stress levels will naturally be elevated at many times, but it is my duty to remind you that you must prioritize keeping your stress levels low in order to foster the healthy growth of your family."

Hermione nodded, squeezing Arthur's hand.

"You are in optimal health, Mrs. Weasley, and we hope to hear positive news from you soon," the healer said before nodding at them and exiting the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind the healer, she stood, turning to Arthur.

"I understand," he said, giving her a soft smile at the look she gave him. "Molly and I...we tried for a girl for years," he said, smiling fondly at the memory. "We tried for so long, and we'd all but given up hope when we found out she was pregnant with Ginny."

Hermione nodded, giving him a quick kiss.

"We are trying," he said when they pulled back. "We are trying, and you will get pregnant."

"Thank you for being here, Arthur," she whispered, kissing him again. "I appreciate it, more than you know."

"You are my wife," he answered simply.

He gave her another lingering kiss, and she ran a hand up his chest. "How much time do you have before you need to be back at work?" she asked when they pulled back, breathing heavily.

"Enough," he smiled as she tugged him out the door, heading for the nearest Apparition point.

 **X**

Hermione stood in front of her bathroom mirror, scowling at the many empty bottles of Sleekeazy's that were strewn across the marble countertop. Even after slathering her hair with product and using every charm she knew, her mane of wild curls still refused to cooperate. Tonight the Malfoys - alongside Kingsley - would be hosting the Ministry's annual Beltane Ball. She would need to put on her best facade on this evening, presenting herself as the dutiful wife of some of the richest and most powerful men in wizarding society. It was maddening, considering that all she wished to do was return to the dungeons to care for her parents.

There was a soft knock on the open door, and she turned to see Harry leaning casually against the doorframe, looking devilishly handsome in his Gryffindor-red dress robes.

"You look gorgeous, Harry," she said, sweeping her eyes over him appreciatively. She had the pleasure of seeing a slight blush tint his cheeks.

"I could say the same to you," he said, sweeping his own eyes over her form. She was currently wearing a short, blush-colored robe that was spattered with small splotches of liquid from her last application of Sleekeazy's.

She rolled her eyes at him. "You would say that even if I was wearing a bedsheet, Harry," she laughed.

"Bedsheets are my favorite," his voice dropped an octave as he crossed over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

She giggled as he began planting kisses along her neck, smiling into her skin. "There's no time for this right now," she said, sighing as she pulled away. "My hair is not cooperating with me and guests are due to start arriving in-" she peeked at his watch "-just over an hour."

He pulled back, kneading her shoulders until she became pliant under his touch. "You and I both know that's not all that's bothering you," he said. "They've been stable for nearly a week now, 'Mione. We've already emptied the pensieves twice. They're on the mend - please don't let your fear make you forget that."

She sighed. "I know," she said. "It's just that whenever I close my eyes, all I can see is her convulsing, and all that blood…" she trailed off, feeling herself getting choked up.

"Hermione," Harry twisted her gently until she looked at him. "You saved her. You've assessed them yourself dozens of times since - they've never been better. They are _on the mend_." He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered when she pulled back.

"Tonight, you need to step back and relax a bit," he smiled, rubbing her shoulders. "That is what you need most of all right now."

She gave him a small smile and nodded.

Harry looked at the mess of empty bottles spread over the sink. "You know, I think I still get paid a dividend for each bottle sold," he mused.

He guffawed at her expression. "Yes, you have indeed been paying yourself every time you purchased a bottle."

She scowled again. "It's your money-"

" _Our_ money, Hermione," he said pulling her close once more. "This isn't just about your parents and hair though, is it?"

"I…" she bit her lip nervously. "I don't fit in with these people. Only two years ago half of these people would have shunned my presence in their high society affairs. And now…"

"Now, you've been thrust into the center of it all and have no idea how to cope," he finished for her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror, shining with understanding.

"How did you manage it?" she asked, relaxing into his embrace.

"I think you know better than anyone that I didn't," he chuckled. "But I had you, and now you have me. We'll get through this night, and anything else life throws at us together."

She nodded and gave him a small smile, tilting her head back to kiss him.

"Now, let's get your hair sorted, shall we?" he said when they pulled apart. She scowled once again, and he laughed, giving her another quick kiss.

 **X**

An hour later, they'd managed to somewhat tame her curls into a bun at the crown of her head which she'd then interwoven with some of the crystals she'd saved from her wedding. She'd chosen a long, sweeping set of midnight blue velvet robes that swept low across her chest, leaving her shoulders and collarbone exposed, along with a swell of cleavage that she'd been unable to cover. There was a long, glittering cape attached to the back, sweeping along behind her.

"You are the most beautiful witch I've ever seen," Harry said, walking up behind where she stood, watching herself in the mirror. She gasped as he reached around her to fasten a necklace made of large, glittering diamonds around her neck.

"Harry," she whispered, touching the necklace. "You know I can't wear all of that jewelry they've given me, it's entirely too much-"

He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Actually, this one's from my vault," he said. "It was my grandmother's," he said. "At least, I think so - it looks like she's wearing it in one of her portraits, but I can't be certain-"

"It's stunning," she interrupted with a smile, twisting in his arms to kiss him once more.

"Let's go," he said, placing her hand in the crook of his arm. She swallowed nervously as she let him lead her out the door, then froze altogether as she heard the voices of their guests floating up from the entrance hall.

"Hermione," Harry laughed. "I won't leave your side," he promised.

"You have to," she groaned. "I have to entertain as the Minister's Wife," she muttered bitterly.

"Hullo, Harry," Arthur said, walking up to them. "Hullo, Hermione," he pressed a quick kiss to her temple. "May I ask why you have yet to join the festivities?"

"Hermione's got a spot of anxiety, is all," Harry chuckled.

"You look stunning, Hermione," Arthur offered. "You're certain to be the center of attention this evening."

Harry chuckled at her expression. "That is the opposite of what she was hoping for, I imagine," he smirked.

The two men offered their elbows to her, and the three of them soon made their way down the steps of the grand staircase. As predicted, as soon as they'd begun their descent, the guests that filtered through the entrance hall toward the ballroom all began watching them, and she watched as many started exchanging words in hushed whispers. Despite her knowledge that the number of older women that survived the plague significantly outnumbered the women of birthing age who had survived, she was still surprised by the number of women present in the room. As they reached the bottom of the steps, she knew her skin was tinted pink from all of the attention.

"Harry! Hermione!" Ron called, making his way over to them. "Oh! Hi dad," he added when he saw Arthur, who greeted him back happily.

Hermione pulled her hands away from her husbands, suddenly feeling flustered in Ron's presence.

"I'll leave you all to it then," Arthur said, giving them a small smile before disappearing into the crowd.

"You look beautiful, 'Mione," Ron smiled at her. "How have you been?"

"Thank you, Ron," she smiled. "I've been...well," she hesitated.

Thankfully, Ron didn't notice her hesitation and carried on chattering. "Parvati's around here somewhere," he said, craning his neck as he scanned the crowd. "She's been taking advantage of the night to drink for once," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling.

Hermione smiled at the sight, glad to see how smitten he appeared to be with her.

"Mate, look at those!" Ron pointed to a floating tray of desserts that were piled high with cream and adorned with what looked suspiciously like flecks of real gold. Ron tugged Harry's arm and dragged him off after the tray, leaving Hermione standing alone as they quickly vanished into the crowd.

Hermione swallowed nervously, feeling the heat of the gazes of those around her as they watched her every movement. She craned her neck as she looked around, inwardly cursing her small stature. She began wandering through the crowd, keeping her head down lest she make eye contact with one of Kingsley or Lucius' haughty acquaintances. She spotted Draco's platinum head a short distance away, and sighed in relief, quickly making her way over to him. He was standing with Blaise and Theo, and together the three of them towered over her.

"Hey," Draco smiled down at her, slipping a hand around her waist and giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek. "You look amazing," he whispered in her ear.

"Well if it isn't your lovely stepmother," Theo smirked, snorting at Draco's instant scowl.

"Hullo, Theo, Blaise," she said, smiling at the two men. "Enjoying the party?"

"Half of these people are insufferable twits," Theo said, rolling his eyes.

"Agreed," Blaise said. "They wouldn't know class if it bit them in the arse."

"Mrs. Huxley looked ready to lick my father's boots," Draco huffed. "Pathetic, the lot of them."

Hermione stifled a giggle.

"Have you had the pleasure of running into any of the Malfoys' _esteemed_ acquaintances yet?" Theo asked.

"Thankfully, no," she said, leaning closer into Draco as she scanned the crowd around them with a small frown.

"Our wife appears to have gotten caught up with some of ours," Blaise said, looking somewhere beyond Hermione and Draco. "She looks most displeased."

At that, Theo let out a small snort, his eyes following where Blaise looked.

Hermione looked between them, puzzled. "You have the same wife? I thought that-"

"Did I not tell you what happened?" Draco said, stifling a smile at the scowl that had taken over Blaise's face.

"After his initial betrothed's sudden passing, he was reassigned to a new wife," Like Draco, Theo was smirking as he spoke, eyes dancing with humor as he took in Blaise's scowl. "As it turns out, the Ministry mailed him a letter informing him that he had been re-assigned to one Ms. Molly Weasley, and only a few days later realized that the letter was supposed to say, 'Ms. _Ginevra_ Molly Weasley.'"

At this, Hermione let out an outright laugh, and the others - save Blaise - joined her. "I am so sorry, Blaise," she said once she'd sobered. "I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"I believe the words "satan's bollocks" were thrown around quite a bit during the initial two rounds," Draco smirked.

"Shut it," Blaise grumbled, to the continued amusement of his two best mates.

"Welcome," Theo spoke to someone over her shoulder, and Hermione turned to find none other than the woman in question approaching. She wore a set of champagne-colored robes that accented the swell of her middle.

"Hullo, Ginny," Hermione said carefully, giving the woman a small smile.

Ginny's returning smile was stiff, and she instead situated herself between her two husbands, giving them quick kisses on the cheek in lieu of returning Hermione's greeting. Draco's arm stiffened around her waist, but she placed a hand delicately on his chest, signaling him to relax.

"Weaselette," Draco drawled, his voice as stiff as Ginny's smile had been.

"Malfoy," she greeted. "Lovely party," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Congratulations," Hermione said, gesturing at Ginny's baby bump.

"Thanks," Ginny said. "And how far along are you?" she said, blinking innocently as Hermione smoothed a hand over her flat stomach at the other woman's words.

"I'm not currently expecting, actually," Hermione said, trying to maintain her false smile.

"Oh, so just the one, then?" Ginny pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Hermione answered through gritted teeth.

"Hm," Ginny said, giving Hermione a small, sad smile.

Blaise, Theo, and Draco exchanged a look, likely calculating the amount of time they had left keeping their wives in such close proximity before things imploded.

Before Draco could pull her away, however, she spotted Kingsley in the crowd, who gave her a small smile. "Please excuse me," she said, giving Draco's hand a quick squeeze before slipping away.

"You look ravishing tonight," Kingsley said as she approached, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright," she said, giving him a smile that she hoped was convincing enough.

Before Kingsley could answer, a small group of Ministry officials Hermione recognized from the wedding walked up to them. They all gave her short, curt nods as they approached, greeting Kingsley.

"Mr. Shacklebolt," A short, portly-looking man with balding grey hair spoke first. "Mrs. Shacklebolt," he added, lifting her hand so he could give it a quick kiss.

"Welcome," Kingsley said. "I hope you all have been enjoying the evening's festivities," he added.

"The Malfoys have certainly outdone themselves," an auburn-haired man said, looking appreciatively around the grand ballroom.

"They have," another man agreed. "How have your accommodations been at the Manor thus far? If I recall correctly, you've been living here nearly a year now, have you not?"

"Yes," Kingsley nodded. "The Malfoys have provided us with many comforts."

"I trust that you have been enjoying it as well, Mrs. Shacklebolt?" the auburn-haired man asked.

"Yes," she answered. "They have been most hospitable."

"I can only assume that there has been ample space provided for the children here," the balding man said. "Your family was one of the few that we neither needed to grant a larger home or house elves for tending to the children," he added.

"That is true," Kingsley said. "The nurseries are kept on the third floor, in the west wing."

The tall, thin woman with curling grey hair in the group spoke then, her eyes sliding up and down Hermione's frame. "It is of my understanding that you have yet to conceive a second child, Mrs. Shacklebolt," she said. Hermione recognized her as one of those who had been praising her at the wedding, but her eyes were cold as she appraised her.

The others in the group watched her interestedly as they waited for her to respond.

Hermione swallowed before answering. "Yes, that is true," she said quietly.

"How…unfortunate," the woman clipped, taking a slow sip of her champagne as she continued to appraise her.

Had Kingsley not been gripping her waist tightly, she feared that she would have buckled under the force of the woman's gaze.

After a drawn-out moment of silence, the woman turned to Kingsley and began inquiring about Ministry-related activities. Soon, the others in the group joined her, leaving little room for Hermione to participate in the conversation.

"Excuse me," she mumbled after a few minutes of conversation, wandering until she stepped out onto one of the many terraces. She sucked in a mouthful of fresh air before crossing over to one of the stone benches and sitting down, closing her eyes as she inhaled a deep breath. The sounds of the night floated around her, the terrace somehow quieter than the ballroom that was only feet away. Hermione suspected it was one of the Malfoys' clever enchantments, along with one that kept the area around her nicely warm although she knew the temperature was only slightly above zero.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lady of the Manor," a familiar voice spoke from in front of her. Hermione looked up to see Parvati smiling down at her, looking even more stunning than usual in glittering gold robes.

"You look beautiful," Hermione smiled at her friend, fingering the delicate material as the woman sat down beside her.

"Courtesy of on Mr. Covington," she said, sweeping her hands over her dress. "He may be rubbish in the sack but his gifts quite make up for it. Somewhat," she added with a small shrug.

Hermione laughed, shaking her head at her. "Always look on the bright side of life, right?"

Parvati laughed with her for a moment before sighing. "Lavender wouldn't have minded," she said sadly, looking off at the night sky that glittered with the light of a thousand stars.

Hermione reached over and squeezed Parvati's hand. "I miss her too," Hermione said.

"She loved parties, dressing up, all these things," Parvati said. "I just wish I could share all of this with her, even for one final moment," she added, her voice tinged with sadness.

"Do you remember the time she tried that new makeup charm she found in _Witch Weekly_?" Hermione giggled.

Parvati threw her head back and laughed. "Her lips were glittering green for a _week_!"

"It's times like these where the loss feels the greatest," Hermione said when they'd sobered, looking back at the party over her shoulder. "So many are carrying on as if nothing has changed, but everything's just so different now."

"Mm," Parvati agreed. "Strange, isn't it? Just a year ago I couldn't fathom being married, let alone having children."

"But now…" Hermione said, exchanging a knowing look with her.

"Now, they're everything...everything and more," Parvati agreed. "And my husbands... I've grown quite fond of them, too, I must admit," she added.

"Even Ron's god awful chewing?"

Parvati laughed again. "That I can do without, but...I love him, Hermione," she said. "I really do." Her eyes were shining with the emotion.

"He loves you too," Hermione smiled. "Even if he hasn't yet said it - I know he does. I can see it in his eyes as much as I can see it in yours. And when he looks at the twins and then at you...he looks like he's about to burst with it."

Parvati gave her a beatific smile at that, and they soon fell into a companionable silence.

"Let's head back in," Parvati said, standing. Hermione followed behind her, weaving through the crowd of unfamiliar faces.

They'd stopped to pick up glasses of sparkling cider when Hermione's hand collided with that of another woman. She pulled back, and the tray floated away to reveal a dark-haired woman standing in front of her. She wore robes in a near-identical midnight blue color to Hermione's, but Astoria's were cut low at the bosom. They also had a long slit cut up the front, where a glittering silver heel was visible. Despite the daring cut of her dress, she still managed to look elegant. She was quite pretty, save for the frown that was etched deep into her features as she appraised them.

"Greengrass," Parvati said curtly, giving the woman a stiff smile.

 _Oh._ Hermione looked at the woman once more, taking in the features of the woman who had once been destined to be Draco's intended. Hermione had only seen the woman's picture once in papers accompanying the announcement, which she'd promptly thrown into the fire, unable to stand looking at the couple any longer.

Astoria was the picture of disdain, staring back at Hermione with narrowed icy-blue eyes. "Patil," she sniffed. "Granger."

"Fascinating outfit choice," Parvati said, narrowing her eyes back at the other woman.

Astoria narrowed her eyes further. "And your robes are quite...striking," she said disdainfully, before turning to Hermione. "Quite plain for such an event, no?" she said, flicking her eyes over Hermione's dress. "And the necklace is...a bit...well," she flipped her long, straight hair over her shoulder.

"Have you been enjoying the festivities?" Hermione offered with a strained smile, ignoring the woman's remarks.

"My night has been satisfactory," she sniffed haughtily.

"And where are your esteemed husbands?" Parvati asked, smirking at Astoria's resulting frown.

"They're around," Astoria said, smoothing a hand over the small, rounded bump of her stomach. She caught Hermione's gaze and gave her a small smirk. "I hear that you've yet to conceive a second," she sniffed. "How unfortunate."

"And _I_ hear that your husbands are quite destitute and that you've been assigned one of the homes that were seized," Parvati snapped.

Astoria glared at her before turning on her heel and disappearing into the crowd without another word.

"Parvati!" Hermione said, still gaping at the exchange.

Parvati shrugged. "She needed to be put in her place," she said. "Besides, can you imagine how upset she must be at the reminder that she's stuck living like a pauper while you get the life she always wanted?"

Hermione stuttered. "It's- I've never been much for all of-" she waved her hands in the air noncommittally.

"And that's what's killing the bitch," Parvati said, winking at her. She frowned as she caught something behind Hermione. "Do excuse me - Covington's drunk again," she sighed, disappearing into the crowd.

And so Hermione found herself alone once again and opted to make her way to the loo instead of chancing any more unfortunate run-ins.

She was soon walking down a corridor that held only a few mingling guests who paid her little mind as she breezed by. She was making her way past an open sitting room when she paused, turning to re-examine the room's occupants.

Inside sat Lucius, and he was sitting next to the most beautiful woman Hermione had ever seen. Her ebony skin glowed in the golden light that emitted from the fireplace, illuminating the perfectly sculpted leg that was nearly completely exposed by the daringly high slit in her emerald green dress robes. The robes were skintight and plunged deep in the front, showcasing her generous curves and revealing an ample amount of cleavage. The proportions of her face were nothing short of perfection, the structured sweep of her jaw, high cheekbones and full lips a showcase of elegant beauty. Hermione swept her eyes over the woman once more, transfixed by her beauty. When her gaze reached the woman's face once more, she was surprised to see her eyes fixated upon her.

"This must be your wife," the woman said, giving Hermione a slow smile. Even the woman's voice was perfection, dripping with seduction.

At that, Lucius looked up at where Hermione stood, his grey eyes unreadable. Even in the presence of the woman's ethereal perfection, he was still strikingly handsome.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Lucius drawled. "Do come in."

She hesitated for a moment before entering the room. She felt their eyes on her as she crossed the room, feeling inferior in the presence of their combined beauty.

"This is Alycia Zabini," Lucius said as she sat in an armchair across from them.

"A pleasure," Alycia said.

Hermione squirmed under the woman's probing gaze and cleared her throat. "A pleasure to, uh, meet you as well, Mrs, erm Zabini…?" she trailed off, cringing internally at how raspy her voice sounded.

She waved her hand dismissively. "Zabini is fine. He was, unfortunately, the most useless of my husbands, although it does carry a bit of sentimentality on account of my son, I suppose," she said.

Hermione nodded, still hesitant to speak in the woman's intimidating presence.

Alycia took a slow sip of her champagne, clicking a long, scarlet-tipped fingernail against the glass as she continued to peruse Hermione. "You've been quite the talk of society," she said eventually, breaking the silence.

"I, uh, wasn't aware," Hermione said, cringing again because of course, she wasn't blind to the reporters or constant newspaper articles about her life. Lucius was still silent and impassive, nearly ignoring her.

"Really now?" Alycia said, taking another long sip from her glass. She had a glittering diamond necklace around her throat that dropped into her cleavage and swayed as she moved, and Hermione found her eyes constantly dropping down to before flushing as she remembered where her gaze kept falling.

"She's cute, Lucius," Alycia said, smiling at her in a way that Hermione couldn't help but interpret as condescending. In reality, she knew that the woman was being matter-of-fact - Hermione felt very child-like indeed in this woman's presence.

It was then that Hermione noticed that the woman had a hand splayed over Lucius' thigh, and was gently dragging a claw-tipped fingernail over it in delicate but precise movements. Hermione's gaze flicked up to Lucius, then back to Alycia, who watched her with a knowing smirk on her lips. But of course there had been more than friendship between the two of them - there was enough beauty between them that it was near-inconceivable that there hadn't been anything between them at some point.

"Do tell me, Mrs. Malfoy," Alycia smiled. "How has our dear Lucius been treating you?"

"Well enough," she said quietly, looking away from where the other woman was nearly draped across her husband's lap.

"Well enough, you say?" Hermione heard the hint of surprise in the other woman's voice but did not yet look up. "I am quite disappointed," she said. "You're known for treating your women so very well," she murmured.

Hermione looked up in time to see the woman dragging a fingertip across Lucius' sharp jaw, while he looked down at her.

"Rest assured that my wife has been afforded all of the Malfoy...hospitalities," Lucius drawled, taking a slow sip of the amber liquid in the crystal glass in his hand.

Hermione felt her skin flushing, feeling a coil of jealousy twisting in her stomach as she watched them.

Alycia turned and gave Lucius a long kiss on the cheek before standing, her movements fluid and sensual as she straightened. "Do excuse me," the woman said before turning to exit the room. The elegant sway of the woman's hips had Hermione transfixed even as she quickly disappeared from view, leaving her alone with Lucius.

"You've slept with her, in the past," Hermione found the words dropping out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She looked up and met his grey eyes that glittered in the light that the fire threw from behind her.

"Yes," he answered simply.

"Did Narcissa know?" She knew, without needing to ask, that the affair had taken place during his first marriage.

"The union between Narcissa and I was not one borne out of love."

"Would you have married her, if you'd had the chance?" She'd started asking and now could not stop.

Lucius raised an eyebrow at her. "No," he clipped. "I had no interest in being found dead, and our _arrangement_ suited us just fine."

"You would still be sleeping with her, if you could," Hermione mused, looking back to the open doors of the sitting room where guests continued to mill past.

"Perhaps," he clipped easily.

She looked back at him, searching his eyes for something, although she knew not what.

"Is there an issue, Mrs. Malfoy?" he asked, searching her eyes just as intently as she did his. "Perhaps this...vexes you?" he added with a slow smirk.

"It most certainly does _not_ vex me," she snapped, standing abruptly. She'd nearly made it to the heavy oak doors when they flew closed and she felt Lucius' presence at her back.

She turned to find him even closer than she'd expected, her bosom meeting his chest with every breath she took.

She stepped back and he followed until her back was pressed against the closed doors. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his as she felt the heat of his broadly muscled body radiating against her own. She couldn't tell if his eyes were dark with mocking or lust and cursed herself for hoping for the latter.

The room was near silent save for their mingled breaths and the soft crackling of the fire behind them.

Somewhere, a voice in the back of her mind reminded her that this was Lucius Malfoy, the man who had taken her in every impersonal way he could come up with and that she shouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing her lust. Yet, she could not tear her eyes away from his. Yes, he usually took his pleasure from her, dismissing her shortly afterward. Now, though, she realized as she continued to search his eyes, she had the option of taking her pleasure from him. Yes, tonight she would take her pleasure instead, and would not stop until she had come undone.

She slid her hands down his abdomen, feeling his muscles clench slightly under her touch. He continued to stare her down and she looked back defiantly, wondering if he would stop the slow descent of her hands.

He didn't. When she undid his robes and reached for the topmost button of his trousers, he surged forward suddenly, dragging up her dress robes with a small bout of wandless magic. She vanished her knickers and mumbled a lubrication charm just as quickly, and he drove into her without ceremony, causing her to moan loudly.

Hyper-aware of the guests mingling just outside the room, she leaned forward and bit the side of his neck, driven as much by her desire to keep from alerting the entire populace of Wizarding Britain to their activities as her desire to visibly mark her husband as belonging to _her._ The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, and she slid one arm around his neck while using the other to rub her clit vigorously. She came with a cry and released his throat as her head rolled back against the door.

His movements sped up soon after she came, and she reached down to rub her clit once more, chasing a second orgasm. Her pussy fluttered with every delicious drag of his cock, and she clenched herself around him, smiling satisfactorily when he let out a groan at her actions. He came then, spurting deep into her body. She rubbed her clit faster, coming on his cock a second time as he breathed heavily into her neck, admiring the mark she had left there. She reached down to dislodge his cock, smirking once more as he shuddered when she squeezed his still-sensitive length slowly.

She fixed her robes quickly and left without a word, stepping out the door and letting it click shut behind her, meeting the curious looks of the guests that watched her emerge with a small, satisfied smirk.

* * *

 **Every review means the world to me.**


	26. Chapter 26

**An announcement: chapter one of my Dramione fic, Entanglement, is now up! I know this fic has a big mix of ships, but I hope my Dramione shippers enjoy it! It's a War AU that starts mid-sixth year before diverging from canon events during the summer. The fic is a lot darker/angstier than ACMI, but I hope whoever checks it out coming from here enjoys it regardless.**

 **As always, so much love goes out to RESimon for being such an amazing beta - thank you!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

Hermione watched as Severus extracted yet another memory from her father's head and deposited it in the swirling pensieve beside him. He had been cordial in the days following their night together, and as distant as if nothing had transpired between them. She'd expected nothing less following his unexpected moment of vulnerability. Emma was fussing quietly in her arms, tilting her head away each time Hermione tried to feed her.

"Emma, baby, please eat," Hermione begged, trying to tuck her daughter's head back under the flap of her nursing robes once again.

Emma fussed louder, squirming as she tried to escape her mother's arms. "Emma Rose Snape," Hermione snapped down at the child. "If you bite me the way you bit Pinky-"

"Hermione?" Hermione's head shot up at the voice that spoke because it most definitely did _not_ belong to one of her husbands.

She met the eyes of none other than her father, who was blinking back at her. His eyes traveled from her shocked ones down to where Emma had suddenly decided to start nursing and was suckling away happily at her mother's breast. Hermione gaped at her father, then down at Emma before raising her eyes to her father once more. He was blinking rapidly, eyes roving around the room before settling on her once again.

"Dad?" she whispered.

He opened his mouth to speak once more, but his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell back onto his cot, unconscious. The room was silent, and both Lucius and Severus had stopped working.

"What just happened?" Hermione breathed, looking up at Severus. "Is he...what was that?"

Severus' lips thinned into a small frown as he appraised her father's unconscious body. "Most of his new memories have now been removed, and I've been coaxing his true memories back to the surface," Severus explained. "The memories seem to have been slowly re-filling the gaps that were created, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to coax the memories forth without bringing his consciousness with it as well."

"It may now be best to wake them for short periods and monitor their progress as they sleep," Lucius added.

Hermione blinked, looking back at them. "So they're...alright? We can wake them up?"

They exchanged a look before nodding at her, and she promptly burst into tears. Emma started at the noise and began crying softly at the sight of her mother.

"Shh baby," Hermione whispered, kissing her daughter's blonde curls. "They're happy tears," she said rocking her baby gently as she cried until she was coaxed into drinking milk once more.

"Their minds are still delicate, and we will need to tread carefully while they are awake," Severus said. "It would be advisable to remove her from the room for now, as your parents are currently unaware of certain _developments_ in your life since they last saw you," he said, looking pointedly at Emma.

Hermione nodded, biting her lip at the prospect of having to explain to her parents all that had transpired. Yes, the initial damage had been mostly erased, but she knew that she had so much more to account for.

At that moment, Pinky popped in, arms outstretched for Emma. "It is time for young Miss to have a bath," the house elf said shyly, twisting her fingers in one of the dresses she'd knitted during one of Hermione's sessions with the elves. She reached out again for Emma with trepidation, eyeing the child's teeth warily.

"No biting," Hermione said sternly when Emma unlatched herself from her mother's breast, giving her a toothy smile. Pinky soon had the child wrapped in her arms and Apparated away with her as quickly as she'd come.

Hermione stood, wiping her clammy hands on her robes as she made her way over to the cots. "How should we-" she stopped short as a hand gripped hers, and looked down to see her mother's wide eyes looking up at her.

"Hermione?" her mother's voice was soft. "I-" the woman coughed, and Hermione hastily conjured a glass of water, sitting beside the woman and tilting the glass to her lips.

"Mum," she whispered, scanning her mother's features. The woman had always been beautiful, and Hermione marveled at how her beauty hadn't waned in the slightest after spending a month and a half in a coma. Her long brown hair was as thick and luscious as ever, flowing in loose waves down past her shoulders. Her chocolate brown eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes that brushed against her golden skin as she blinked rapidly, looking around the room.

Her mother slowly sat up, taking the glass from Hermione and pulling it from her lips. "Hermione," she spoke again, her voice clearer. "Where...where are we?" she scanned the small, stone-walled room, her features the picture of confusion. "What is _that_?" she breathed, her eyes stopping at Hermione's left hand, where her rings glittered softly in the room's low light.

Hermione gaped for a moment, having forgotten entirely about her rings. "Mum," she said. "Don't panic," she said softly.

"Hermione," her mother said, her voice sharper than before. "Tell me what's going on." She looked behind Hermione, appraising the men behind her.

"Rose?" Her father's voice sounded from across the room, and they all turned to where he sat up, looking groggy and confused.

"Dad," she said softly, crossing over to him.

"What is going on, Hermione?" his eyes traveled from her face to her chest, brow furrowing as he likely tried to discern whether what he'd witnessed before had been real or not.

"There was a small...complication," Hermione said carefully, looking between them. "We needed to keep you under observation until you were well again."

"What _kind_ of complication, Hermione?" her mother urged. "Who are they?"

"I…" Hermione hesitated. "This is my old Potions Professor, Severus Snape. And…" she hesitated again, turning to Lucius. "This is Lucius Malfoy. My, erm, father-in-law."

"Hermione," her mother breathed, eyes flying from her rings to Lucius and back again. "I don't understand, you're _seventeen_ years old-"

Hermione threw up a diagnostic spell in the air that displayed her mother's elevating heartbeat. "Mum," she said, watching the spell's readings worriedly. "I'll explain everything, I promise. But first, you need to calm down."

Their eyes met for a few tense moments before her mother nodded, and the soft thumps of the diagnostic lowered to a normal tone. She turned to her father, who was appraising Lucius with trepidation. She cast an identical diagnostic spell over his head as well before taking him his hand and squeezing it.

"I'm so happy to see you," she whispered, hearing her voice choke up slightly.

"Oh, darling," Her mum said. "Don't cry, we're ready to listen now, we promise."

Hermione nodded, still in disbelief that her mom's eyes were looking upon her with recognition.

"I…" Hermione hesitated, unsure of where to start.

Her father squeezed her hand. "Let's start with how long we've been here," he suggested.

"Well, erm," she looked between the two of them. "You've been _here_ for a month and a half..." she trailed off.

"A month and a half?!" her father said. "Gods, Rose, the practice-"

"-is taken care of," Hermione said, still worrying at her lip.

"What happened to us, then? If we were unwell, why aren't we in a hospital?"

Hermione's lip trembled as she spoke. "The...the condition you had was magical," she said softly.

"And they're treating us?" her mother asked, gesturing at where Severus and Lucius hovered, silent and stone-faced as they observed her parents.

"Yes," Hermione said. "They've been treating you, and now they're going to be monitoring you while you recover," she explained.

"They're...doctors?" her mother asked. "You said he was your professor, and he-" her mother stopped short.

"Hermione," her father asked. "Why on earth would you have gone and gotten married while we were ill for less than two months? You're only seventeen years old, how could you have possibly managed to do so without our permission?"

"I…" she opened her mouth and closed it again at the looks on her parents' faces.

"It's been longer than that, hasn't it?" her mother asked softly.

Hermione began worrying at her bottom lip again, nodding ashamedly.

"How long has it been, Hermione?" her mother pressed. She met her husband's eyes before they both turned to face their daughter again.

"I'm not seventeen," she whispered. "I'm twenty."

The silence that descended upon the room was deafening.

"Twenty...years old?" her father said, sounding the words out as if they were in a foreign language.

She nodded mutely, feeling a tear spill down her cheek.

"I don't...I don't understand," her mother said. "We've been ill for over two years?"

Hermione nodded again, feeling her tears start to fall faster.

"Miss Granger," Severus spoke in a low, warning tone. She looked up to see her mother's heart rate elevating, and her father's doing the same.

"Please calm down," she begged. "Let me explain."

"What were we sick with?" her mother asked softly.

Hermione's eyes were brimming with more tears as she looked at her mother. She couldn't answer and instead shook her head softly, burying her face in her hands as she started to sob quietly.

"Hermione," her father sat up, rubbing circles on her back. "You can talk to us."

"Please," her mother added.

"I-I-" Hermione hiccupped, unable to form the words. This wasn't how she'd planned to tell them everything, not at all. She'd wanted to ease them into it slowly, weaving the story delicately to avoid disrupting their delicate minds. But looking into their eyes now, she knew that this was one lie she could no longer tell.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, swallowing before she opened her mouth again. "You weren't sick," she whispered. "I erased your memories."

Her mother blinked rapidly, flabbergasted. " _Erased_ them?"

Hermione nodded. "Magically," she explained.

"Why would you do such a thing?" her father asked, equally as flabbergasted.

"I had to," she whispered.

"Why?" her mother pressed. "You can tell us anything, you know that," she said.

Hermione shook her head. "There were...things going on," she explained. "Things that you couldn't be a part of-"

"What on earth could you possibly mean, Hermione?" her father asked. "We know you're a witch, dear, you have nothing to hide from us-"

"I did," she said. "I had to, I had to protect you-" she cut off with a sob, clapping a hand over her mouth as she cried.

"Protect us from what?" her mother's tone changed abruptly from confusion to concern.

"Protect us from what, Hermione?" her father's voice was hard.

She continued sobbing all the while, her terror bursting from her into a torrent that she could not ebb.

"Was someone trying to hurt you?" her father gripped her upper arms, twisting her towards him.

The sobs continued to wrack her body harder.

"Answer me, Hermione," his voice was urgent. "Did they hurt you?"

He tugged hard at her forearm suddenly, gripping the skin where her sleeves had fallen down as she sobbed into her hands.

"What is this, Hermione?" his voice dropped into an angry whisper.

She looked down at where he held her arm then gasped, quickly pulling her sleeve down over it.

"Who did that to you?" he whispered, giving her a heartbroken look. "What does that mean?"

"What does _what_ mean, Michael?" her mother asked.

" _Mudblood_ ," her father breathed the word.

As soon as he said it, Hermione flinched backward, pulling away from him and standing quickly. "I can't- I can't-" she sobbed again, tugging at her sleeve although her arm was now covered.

"Who did that to you?!" her father shouted. An angry thump echoed throughout the room as his heart rate sped up.

"Did what?!" her mother asked, alarmed.

"Dad, please, calm down," she begged, watching the diagnostic with alarm.

"Calm down?! Someone carved a word into my daughter's skin!" he bellowed. He skin flushed red, and Hermione panicked as alarms on both of her parents' diagnostics began to wail as their distress skyrocketed.

"Someone _what_?!" her mother wailed.

Hermione started sobbing louder, vaguely registering as Lucius and Severus moved her aside to tend to her parents. Within seconds, they were both slumbering again, although their heartbeats were still elevated.

The silence was tense as the men dove into her parents' minds, assessing the damage their outbursts had caused. "They are confused, but their distress did not cause any lasting damage," Lucius spoke first.

Hermione nodded mutely, her eyes trained on her mother's slumbering figure. Silent tears continued to fall down her cheeks, and she felt herself trembling as she thought over what had just transpired.

"How long will they be under for?" she asked.

"We cannot say," Severus answered. "They will wake naturally when they are ready."

She nodded, looking over to her father.

She stayed sitting beside her mother for hours, watching the woman as she slumbered. She hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep until she felt a gentle hand combing through her hair, and blinked her eyes open to see her mother sitting up, smiling softly down at her.

"Mum?" she whispered. She slid forward until she could wrap her arms around her mother's torso, breathing in her scent.

"You're the same, yet so different," her mother whispered, kissing her hair.

Hermione said nothing but wrapped her arms tightly around her mother's middle.

"What happened to you while we were... gone?" her mother whispered.

"Many things," Hermione whispered back.

"Who hurt you?" her mother whispered, stroking a hand over Hermione's covered forearm.

"Many people," she whispered after a moment of silence.

"Why did you send us away?"

"I had to," Hermione said, pulling back to look into her mother's eyes. "I had to, or they would have hurt you too."

"Hermione," Tears began to leak from her mother's eyes as she started to sob. " _We_ were supposed to be protecting _you_."

She heard a shuffle behind her and turned to see Lucius and Severus standing at the ready, watching her mother as she sobbed. Across from them, she was startled to see her father's eyes open as he watched them. A lone tear had slipped down his cheek, and she realized that he'd like overhead the entire exchange she'd just had with her mother.

"Tell us," he said quietly. "Tell us what happened."

She swallowed before nodding. "There…" she hesitated. "There was a conflict," she said finally.

"A conflict?" her mother repeated.

"What kind of conflict, Hermione?" her father asked.

"A big one," she whispered.

"A war," her father answered tonelessly.

When Hermione said nothing, her mother gasped.

"You erased an entire war from our memories?"

Hermione shook her head. "It wasn't in the muggle world," she said. "It was among wizards."

Her mother sucked in a sharp breath as she took in Hermione's words. "You wiped our memories because you were in danger, didn't you?" she breathed.

"Yes," Hermione whispered back, feeling tears spilling down her cheeks once again.

"And it has something to do with what's written on your arm," her father said.

"Yes," Hermione whispered again, clutching her sleeve instinctively.

"Hermione," her mother wiped at her cheek. "Tell us what happened. Tell us...tell us what that word means."

"It means," she swallowed. "It means that some people just don't understand that I'm just like them," she said, glancing over her shoulder at where her two husbands sat, still quietly observing them.

Her father slammed an angry fist down on his cot, and she saw another tear leak down his cheek. "We never should have sent you there," he growled. "We never should have let you go-"

"You had to! I begged you, you knew I was different, you wouldn't have been able to understand-"

"Because we're _muggles_?" he spat, standing on shaky feet.

"Dad," Hermione said, eyes widening at his slightly unstable steps. "Please sit down, you've only just woken up-"

"Someone hurt my daughter, and I wasn't there to protect her," he said, running an agonized hand through his hair.

"I'm fine now-"

"Now," her father said, plucking up her covered forearm. "Now, yes, but you could have died, and _we weren't even there_."

"We could have kept you home," her mother sobbed. "We could have kept you _safe_."

"No, mum, you couldn't have," she said. "Please believe me. They would have found me anyway. It is better that I was educated, able to defend myself-"

"Hermione!" her mother's anguished cry felt like a knife to her chest. "Do you even hear the words that are coming out of your mouth?"

"Why?" her father asked. "Why would anyone want to hurt you?"

She looked up, facing the anguished looks in her parents' eyes. "Because…." she hesitated. "Because I'm not- I'm not like them," she said, bursting into tears.

Her parents' arms circled around her, wrapping her in their tight embrace as they cried together.

"I had to fight," she said as they embraced her. "I had to fight because it wasn't just about me - it was about so much more," she whispered into their embrace.

Her mother sobbed harder at her words, pulling her close.

"And we won," she added, pulling back. "We won."

Her mother's face was splotchy with tears, and Hermione reached up to wipe them away as her father wiped at his own.

"Of course you did," her mother said giving her a watery smile. "You're the bravest girl we know."

At that, Hermione's sobs started anew, and she leaned forward into their embrace, relishing in the familiar comforts of home.

 **X**

It was late, and Severus and Lucius were bent over her parents' bodies, peering deep into their minds as they slumbered. It had been near silent in the hour since her parents had fallen asleep, and she watched as her husbands peered into their minds while they were under their eerie stasis. Severus laid her father's head back gently onto his cot before standing.

"Things are progressing well," he said simply, giving her a curt nod before breezing out of the room.

She was thus left alone with Lucius, watching him carefully as he worked over her mother. When he laid her head back, Hermione looked up at him as he stood.

"Is she well?" she asked softly, looking over her mother's figure.

Lucius turned to glance at the woman over his shoulder. "You are often on her mind," he answered finally. "She loves you. Very much."

"Oh," Hermione answered, brushing away a stray tear. "I'll...I'll try not to upset her anymore," she said quietly.

"She senses your anxiety," he said. "You cannot hide it from her."

"They don't understand any of it," she whispered. "And I can't explain it to them, either. I barely understand it myself," she whispered, feeling tears begin to gather within her eyes once more.

"May I...see the scar?" Lucius asked.

She looked up at him in surprise. His expression not gentle, but somehow still was softer than usual. He held her gaze for a long moment, and eventually, she nodded, lifting her sleeve to reveal the word that had been cruelly etched into her forearm.

He swept gentle fingers across it for a long moment, examining it with an indiscernible expression on his face.

"I've been getting it treated," she explained softly. "By someone with experience in the art," she said.

"In Knockturn, I presume?"

Once again, Hermione looked up at him in surprise. "How did you know?"

"There are a few there that specialize in the art," he said, whispering an incantation that caused her wound to glow a deep grey, not unlike the one she'd seen Corinna use many a time. "But they do not have access to much of the knowledge that my father kept in his private libraries."

"Oh," she said.

"You may peruse them if you wish," he said, answering her unspoken question.

"Thank you," she breathed, watching as he muttered yet another spell, this time causing the wound to flush to near-black.

"My father had many enemies, and he ensured that I was raised well-versed in the art of treating cursed wounds," Lucius said carefully. "I can heal this if you wish."

"You would do that for me?" she whispered, meeting his eyes.

He appraised her for a moment before nodding. He replaced her sleeve and stood, looking over at her parents once more.

"Thank you," she said, looking over at her slumbering parents.

He paused, then gave her another curt nod before disappearing through the door.

 **X**

The next morning, Hermione ascended the stairs to the Guest's Wing on the fourth floor where they'd had the elves move her parents as they'd slept the night before. She entered their new rooms, pleased to see them sitting in a nicely furnished sitting room, where a house elf was currently clearing up what appeared to have been an ostentatious breakfast.

"Welcome, Mistress!" the elf said, turning to greet her with a low bow.

"What... is he?" her father said, eyeing the elf with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione giggled, relieved at how easily the smile graced her face. "This is Knobby," she explained. "He's one of our house elves."

"House elves?" her mother said, raising an eyebrow. "Did you knit that?" she asked, pointing at the knitted sheath that Knobby wore that fell to his knees.

" _I_ didn't make it," she said carefully, watching the elf shrink back at even the mention of her making him clothes. "I just taught him how, is all," she explained.

At that, her mother laughed. "I remember your tirades about the strifes of house elves," she said. "They wouldn't take what you made, so you taught them instead, hmm?"

"Well, I had to teach them _something_ ," she grumbled. "They couldn't walk around in rags forever - they have dignity."

Her father chuckled for a moment before sobering. "So you're his _mistress_ , then?"

At that, Hermione twiddled her thumbs nervously. "I am," she answered carefully, sitting on the sofa across from where her parents sat.

Lucius walked in then, eyes sweeping over the room. "Good morning," he greeted them stiffly, moving to one of the high-backed chairs across the room.

"Good morning," her parents answered in unison.

Severus glided in a moment later, giving his own stiff greetings. The room lapsed into an awkward silence soon after, and Hermione found herself looking nervously between her parents and her two stoic husbands across the room.

"And these men are your… ex-Professor and father-in-law, if I recall correctly?" her father asked, his voice hardening slightly.

"Yes," Hermione answered, eyes trained in her lap.

She heard her mother sigh and looked up to see her parents exchange a look.

"I think you know that we have a few things to discuss, young lady," her father said sternly. "Namely who on earth gave you that massive ring," he said.

"It was Draco, wasn't it?" her mother asked.

"Yes," Hermione nodded, biting her lip as she looked back down into her lap, lest her eyes betray her half-truth.

Her mother sighed again. "From what I recall, only a few days ago you were crying in my arms because he'd broken your heart. And now you've gone and _married_ him?"

"I love him," she said, finally meeting her mother's eyes and knowing she would see the truth reflected in them.

"I know you do," her mother said, smiling at her affectionately.

"It still doesn't explain why you've up and married the boy so quickly, and behind our backs," her father interrupted.

"I…" she hesitated. "There were certain circumstances that, um, brought us back together," she explained carefully.

"Was it because of the war?" her mother asked softly.

"Partly, yes," she answered carefully, training her eyes back on her lap once more. "The war...it aged us well beyond our years," she explained.

"Hermione," her mother took her hand. "You didn't deserve this," she said. "Any of it."

"I'm alright now, though," she reminded her. "I'm alright, and Draco and I are happy. Truly," she promised them, giving them a genuine smile.

"And you are...alright with this?" her father directed his question to Lucius, who gave him a stiff nod.

"I consented to the union," Lucius said evenly.

Her father nodded, turning back to her. "And where is the boy?"

"Her _husband_ , Michael," her mother admonished, frowning at his tone.

"I'll get him," Hermione moved to stand, but before she could, Knobby Disapparated from where he'd been standing at attention in the back of the room, announcing that he would be fetching Master Draco.

Not a few minutes later, Knobby reappeared with Draco beside him, looking distinctly uncomfortable as her parents appraised him.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he greeted, eyeing her father's responding glare warily as he crossed the room to kiss her mother's hand.

"It's nice to see you, Draco," her mother said, giving him a warm smile.

He sat down beside Hermione, avoiding her father's glare as he cleared his throat. "I, uh, trust that you've found your accommodations satisfactory thus far?"

"Quite so," her mother answered. "Your home is lovely," she added.

"Thank you," Draco gave her a soft smile.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" her father cut in roughly, sparing no greetings.

"I, uh-"

"As I recall it, you broke her heart only a short while ago," he continued, his glare deepening. "And now you've gone and married her without asking for my blessing," he snapped.

"Mr. Granger," Draco started, clearly at a loss for words. "I apologize, I-erm-"

"Honestly, Dad, you know those customs are archaic-"

"He had no problem asking for my blessing to date you," her father snapped. "So please do explain why you've decided to marry when you're- how old?"

"Nineteen, sir," Draco answered quietly, looking down at his lap.

" _Nineteen_?! Nineteen-"

"Michael, dear, do calm down," her mother said calmly, sipping at her tea.

"Calm down?!" Michael thundered. "Our daughter's gone off and gotten _married_ and-" Hermione watched his heart rate diagnostic start to thump loudly, and Severus made to stand from where he was across the room.

"Dad, please," Hermione pleaded. "It's not good for your health to be-"

"Well, I can't very well be expected to be _pleased_ over my daughter's teenaged union," he snapped.

"You know how much I love him," she pleaded. "Is this really so surprising?"

"How long have you been married for now?" her mother asked, looking at Draco.

"Nearly, uh, nearly a year now," he said quietly.

This time, both of her parents fell into a shocked silence.

"A _year_?" her mother gaped, looking at Hermione, who nodded softly.

"It'll be a year next month, on the 22nd," she whispered.

"Hermione Jean Granger," her father seethed at her. "Or - what is it now?"

"Malfoy," she whispered.

"Jesus, Hermione," her father said. "A _year_?"

Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, which only seemed to annoy her father further. "I love her," Draco said softly. "With everything I have."

"And I love him," she added, meeting her father's eyes. "With my whole heart," she added, twining her hand with Draco's.

"You weren't in _trouble_ , were you?" her mother asked, looking pointedly at Hermione's stomach. At her mother's question, her father looked as though he was about to have a stroke.

"No!" Hermione and Draco said in panicked unison.

"Well, dear, I had to ask-"

"We are very deeply in love," she said, her heart still hammering in her chest. "That's all, mum." she said, letting the lie slip past her lips easily.

Her mother searched her eyes for a moment before nodding. "What's happened to your rings?" her mother asked, looking down at where her rings had shifted to a deep silver.

"It's an enchantment," Draco explained, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. "It symbolizes our bond."

"It's beautiful, Draco," her mother said, smiling at them.

"Promise me…" her father started, his eyes fastened on her rings. "Promise me that you'll do your utmost to protect her," he said, his voice softening as he met Hermione's eyes.

"I would protect her with my life," Draco promised without hesitation. "She will never want for anything," he added, tightening his arm around her. "She is everything to me."

Her father nodded then, his eyes shining with emotion. "Yesterday, you were a schoolgirl, and now…now you're a wife and an adult, and…"

Hermione crossed the room in a flash, burying herself in her father's arms. "I'll always be your little girl," she promised, kissing his temple. Her father squeezed her back tightly before kissing her forehead.

"I love you," he reminded her.

"I love you, too, dad," she said, giving him one last squeeze before she stood.

When she looked down at him, however, he was gaping at her slightly.

"What is it?" she asked, perplexed at the look in her father's eyes. His eyes flicked down briefly to her chest before coming back to her face.

"Your...shirt," her father said slowly.

She looked down to see two telltale wet splotches of milk seeping through her shirt over each of her breasts, and she let out a small shriek, mumbling a quick drying charm.

"What is it, dear?" her mom was craning her neck around where Hermione's back was slightly turned away from her, and Hermione looked down at her, panicked as she tried to discern whether her mother had noticed or not.

"It's nothing," Hermione rushed, her heart still thundering in her chest. "S-Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy need to check you over before you get on with your day," she said, gesturing toward the open doors to the bedroom where two luxurious-looking beds lay, along with a few pieces of medical equipment.

"Alright," her father said, standing and moving over to the bedroom.

Her mother appraised her curiously for a few more moments. Hermione's heart lept in her throat as she waited for her mother to give her a knowing look. "Are you certain you're alright?" she asked finally.

"M'fine," Hermione squeaked, giving the woman a strained smile until she stood and headed off towards the bedroom.

As soon as her mother's back was to her, she exchanged a panicked look with Draco, who let out the breath he'd been holding.

* * *

 **...and so Hermione's web of lies begins, haha. Can't wait to hear what you guys thought about this chapter - reviews mean the world to me.**


	27. Chapter 27

**As always, so much love goes out to RESimon for being such an amazing beta - thank you!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

Early morning sunlight bathed Sirius' rooms in a golden glow, enveloping their naked bodies in comforting warmth. The bedsheets were tangled around their legs, and Hermione was currently snuggled into her husband's chest, gently tracing the chiseled muscles of his chest.

He was snoring softly as he slept, and she allowed herself to admire his handsome features. She traced a gentle finger over his chiseled jaw, down to his full lips, then over the bridge of his nose, planting a soft kiss there. His skin was warm to the touch, and she found herself placing more soft kisses along his jaw, then down to his neck and chest. She swept her eyes appreciatively over his body once more, lingering on his defined muscles and his thick cock that lay flaccid on his thigh. When she looked up, she saw his grey eyes open and looking down on her, a small smile on his lips.

"Don't stop on my account," he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

She grinned wickedly, then slid down until she could take his cock into her mouth, moaning around it when he groaned. He was long enough that she had to fist part of his length while sucking down as much as she could.

"Fuck, Hermione," he moaned, bucking up into her mouth as she accepted his thrusts eagerly, swallowing down as much of his length as she could manage.

He pulled her off suddenly, panting. "Up, on your knees," he ordered, and she complied quickly, drawing herself up on all fours.

He slid home a moment later, her slickened cunt accepting him easily. "Ah!" she cried out as he began pounding into her at a furious pace, feeling the hard slap of his thighs against her bottom with his every thrust. She'd thought it impossible, but he sped up, using a rough hand to palm one of her bouncing breasts as he continued pounding into her with ease.

"Tell me how much you like it," he said, gripping her bottom hard as he steadied himself.

"I-" she gasped as he bent her forward, pressing her face into the mattress. "Oh!" she shouted, moaning as the new angle allowed him to repeatedly hit the sensitive bundle of nerves within her.

"Ohh," she gasped, pushing back and meeting his every thrust. "Sirius!" she cried, clamping down on him as she came hard.

At that, he shuddered, pumping his release into her. They fell back in a heap on the bed, panting hard as they came down from their collective high. Even after their breathing had returned to normal, they lay quietly wrapped in each other's arms, cuddling.

"They're almost fully well now, then?" Sirius said, breaking the companionable silence.

"Mm," she nodded into his skin. "We'll have to think about moving them soon," she said.

"Whatever for?" Sirius said, smirking down at her incredulous expression. "You mean you _don't_ want to keep them here, living with you, your eight husbands, and secret daughter?"

She smacked his chest as he laughed, unable to stop a small smile from gracing her features at his mirth. "I'd think not," she said, her head already starting to throb painfully at the idea. "My mother would have a conniption if she found out the truth, and my father would go into cardiac arrest."

Sirius planted a kiss in her hair. "I'm certain they'd understand- eventually," he said. "A parent's love for their child knows no bounds."

Hermione nodded before looking up at him. "How are things between you and Harry?" she asked.

His eyes dimmed at her question. "He doesn't understand the horrors of Azkaban," he said, his voice tinged with mourning. "He doesn't understand how bad things can truly be."

"I understand, I…" she trailed off, thinking of the risk Harry had taken all for her sake. "I don't know what I would have done if he'd been caught," she whispered.

"I'm supposed to protect him from these things," Sirius said. "How can I when he doesn't even try to understand me?"

"He understands a little more than you'd think," she said, thinking of the painful times they'd endured during the war. "But his need to protect those he loves oftentimes outweighs his logic."

"He's my life, Hermione. He may not be my son by blood, but he is in every other capacity," Sirius said sadly.

Hermione nodded, giving him a quick kiss. "He knows how much you love him," she said. "He loves you, too."

"I'm sorry that I let my anger get the best of me then," he said. "Regardless of the reason, it shouldn't have happened in front of you."

"You were worried for Harry," she said. "You have nothing to apologize for."

Sirius pulled her into another kiss before pulling back and looking into her eyes. "You're my life, too, Hermione," he said sincerely.

She felt herself bursting with emotion at the raw honesty she saw reflected in his eyes. "Make love to me," she whispered, drawing him into a deep kiss.

He obliged happily, and they were soon writhing on the bed together, pouring out their affections into their intimate coupling.

 **X**

Hermione smiled as she watched her parents nibbling out their breakfast, shifting uncomfortably in the silence that surrounded them. When she'd arrive in the room that morning, they have been sitting quietly, patiently sitting at their tea while Knobby set out their breakfast for them. They have been cordial, and under normal circumstances, she would not have suspected anything out of the ordinary. However, considering the events of the previous day, their lack of questions was concerning to her.

"How are you been feeling?" Hermione asked, looking at them with concern. "Did you sleep well last night?"

Her mother nodded."We did, in fact, we were just discussing some strange dreams we've been having," she said casually.

"What _kind_ of dreams?" Hermione asked, concerned."Perhaps Mr. Malfoy can look you over once more?" she asked, looking over to where the man was already rising from his seat beside Severus.

Her mother waved her hands dismissively. "No need," she said.

"What is intriguing, however," her father said, "Is how similar our dreams have been."

"Oh?" she said, her eyebrows raised. "How so?"

"Well, I was just telling your mother about the most peculiar dream I had a few days ago. I opened my eyes and I swore that I saw you nursing a child," he said, taking another sip of his tea.

Hermione froze.

"And I then told him that I, too, thought I saw you a hand an infant you were nursing to what looked like a muppet," her mother said, meeting her eyes. "But when your father told me that he saw you lactating yesterday, we realized that perhaps our dreams weren't so peculiar after all."

Hermione's throat had gone dry, and her heart was hammering in her chest as she met there knowing looks, realizing that she could not weave the web of lies she had already begun to build around this truth.

"Hermione, dear," her father asked, taking a casual sip of his tea as he met his daughter's eyes. "Please do explain." His words were casual, that she saw the familiar hard set of his jaw and the muscle jumping slightly at his lip that indicated his in pending outburst.

"I —" her mouth opened and closed her mouth rapidly as she looked between them, knowing that she could not get out of this one.

"Yesterday, I asked you if you were in trouble when you married and you lied to me – to us – straight to our faces–"

"I couldn't– I didn't –" she stuttered, flooded with shame. "I didn't lie, I just omitted it," She said finally, her voice small.

"You omitted your reason for marrying when we asked you outright why you did so behind our backs–" her father 's snapped, his face reddening.

"I didn't get married because of Emma," she said. "I just couldn't tell you, seeing the looks on your faces, how overwhelmed you already were–"

"And so you thought it appropriate to casually omit that we have a grandchild?" Her father asked incredulously.

"A girl, then?" Her mother said, her voice trembling. "I have a granddaughter? Named Emma?"

"Yes," Hermione said, looking down at her lap. "Emma Rose," she whispered, hearing her mother's breath catch at the mention of her granddaughter's middle name.

"Oh, Michael," her mother cried. "We have a granddaughter!"

Hermione looked that up to see her mother sobbing quietly, and she rushed over to gather her mother in her arms.

"My baby has a baby!" Her mother blubbered, hugging her tightly.

Hermione looked up at her father as she continued to hold her mother, meeting his eyes. "Can we meet her?" he asked, his voice softer than before.

Hermione froze, and her mother looked up at her. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Is there something wrong with the baby?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Hermione looked past them to where Lucius and Severus sat, giving them panicked looks. Both men had slightly raised eyebrows as they waited for her to answer her parents.

"N– no," Hermione hesitated, meeting their curious looks. "Yes, you can," she said, swallowing nervously. "She's with Draco now. I'll go get her," she said, rising. This, at least, was not a lie–she knew that Draco was currently playing with Emma in her nursery.

She Apparated into the nursery, and Draco looked up at her from where he was playing with Emma on the floor. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

She shook her head. "They know about Emma," she said, biting her lip as she looked down at her infant who decidedly did _not_ look a thing like the platinum-haired man who sat beside her. Her hair had darkened to a strawberry blonde over the months, and her face was distinctly round, contrasting against the oval shape of Draco's. She had the same button nose as her grandmother, but already Hermione could see a resemblance to her father in the shape of her black eyes that had dimmed to a normal vibrancy.

Draco gaped at her. "Emma is clearly not my child, Granger," he said carefully.

Hermine groaned. "I know, but I didn't know what to say, oh gods, I've lied to them so much in the past 24 hours—"

Draco stood, pulling her into a hug. "We will lie again because this is clearly the better alternative than them finding out who her true father is," he said, looking down at Emma.

"Maybe they'll suspect, but they might not say anything," she said hopefully.

"Maybe," Draco said, bending down to scoop up Emma into his arms. "Maybe."

 **X**

A few minutes later, they returned to her parents' sitting room. For once, Emma was sitting quietly in her step father's arms, curiously watching her grandparents as they stared back at her, looks of awe on their faces.

"May I… hold her?" Her father asked gently.

Hermione nodded, watching as Draco went over to hand Emma to her grandfather. She did not squirm, but instead raised a chubby hand to his face, giggling as she pinched it lightly. Her father did not react but continued staring at her daughter with an awestruck expression. She looked at her mother who had reached out to gently shake Emma's hand smiling as the child gripped her hand back. Hermione felt overwhelmed with emotion as she realized that she was witnessing her parents fall in love with her child when Emma had been born.

Draco picked up her hand and squeezed it, the two of them were watching Emma interact with her grandparents for the first time for a few minutes in silence. It was beautiful to see how easily Emma took to them, treating them with the familiarity she showed her mother and stepfathers.

Eventually, her mother spoke, looking up at Draco. "She's beautiful," she remarked.

"Thank you—" Draco started.

"–and she's not yours, is she?" Her mother said knowingly.

Hermione and Draco froze as they fell into stunned silence.

"No, she's not," Hermione said quietly.

"Then whose is she?" Her father asked his voice lacking surprised at her mother's observation.

"Was this why you were so afraid to tell us about her?" Her mother asked softly.

"Yes," Hermione answered.

"Who is this child's father, Hermione?" her father asked.

Hermione looked briefly over to where Emma's father sat, stoic as ever even as he watched her curiously waiting for her to respond.

"I —" she hesitated.

"You know that you can tell us anything," her mother said gently.

It was true that she had always been open with her parents but this is one truth that would surely test the limits of things that they could understand. At that moment, she feared not only very action but also the fallout of them finding out that the man who had fathered her child what was the same man who she had introduced to them only days before as her ex-Professor.

"I love Hermione and the… parentage of her child does not matter to me," Draco interjected. She could still hear the incredulity in his voice, as he was likely still reeling as much as she was from her newest lie. "I love Emma very much."

"Please...please don't press this," Hermione said quietly. "I'll explain when the time is right. I promise."

The room was silent in the wake of her words, and she eventually tore her eyes from her lap to meet her parents' gazes.

Eventually, her father nodded first. "We trust you," he said quietly.

"And we love you," her mother added.

She nodded, then crossed the room, pulling them into a hug which even Emma joined. When she pulled back, she met Severus' eyes across the room and averted hers quickly, ignoring the guilt that swirled in her chest.

 **X**

Hermione awoke with the morning sun, stretching languidly as she rose. She padded over to one of her tall windows, admiring the grounds that were now nearly covered in a lush layer of bright green grass. She could pick out the colorful flowers in the gardens beyond, smiling as she thought of bringing Emma out on a walk.

By the time she had showered and dressed, however, her bright mood had started to wane somewhat. She sat down on her bed and took a deep, nervous breath as she lifted her wand to her stomach, mumbling the spell she'd said a countless amount of times over the months only to be met with disappointment.

Instead of nothing - as she had become accustomed to - a steady white glow appeared over her stomach. Hermione gaped, then repeated the spell again, only for a white glow to appear once more.

She gasped, shooting up from where she sat. "I'm pregnant," she whispered, running a hand over her stomach. " _I'm pregnant_."

She ran out of her rooms and into the hall, barrelling down the steps. Kingsley was crossing through the entrance hall when she ran up to him, dragging him down into a deep kiss. When she pulled away, he looked down at her, thoroughly confused.

"What's happened?" he said, giving her a confused smile.

"I'm pregnant!" she exclaimed.

"Pregnant?" he repeated before a beatific smile took of his features.

She nodded happily, smiling wider as he smoothed a hand over her still-flat stomach. "We might be having a baby," she said, giggling as he pulled her into a crushing hug. When he set her down, he kissed her deeply, taking her breath away.

"I have to tell everyone the news," she said, giving him another quick kiss.

Kingsley nodded, still smiling down at her. "I just saw Harry and Draco heading out to the gardens with their brooms."

She nodded, giving him a parting kiss as she made for the garden doors. She emerged into the sunshine to find Harry and Draco deep into a game, shouting insults at each other as they fly around, chasing a snitch that flitted around in the air between them.

"Harry! Draco!" she shouted, running over to where they flew. Upon her approach, they paused in mid-air, forgetting the snitch as they descended immediately.

"What is it?" Draco asked, dropping his broom and striding over to her.

"Did something happen?" Harry asked, approaching on Draco's heels.

She shook her head, smiling widely. "I'm pregnant!" she exclaimed.

The two men blinked at her for a moment before bursting into simultaneous whoops of joy, picking her up and spinning her about as they cheered. They ended up in a tangled heap on the ground, although they'd still somehow managed to keep her stomach shielded from harm. Harry pressed a loving hand into her middle, where a hardened lump could just barely be felt.

"Hello, baby," Harry cooed as they helped her to her feet.

Draco wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her cheek gently, while Harry took her hand and squeezed it.

She froze suddenly, clapping a hand over her mouth. "I'm pregnant!" she squealed.

"...yes?" Harry answered, looking thoroughly confused.

"We just went through this, Granger," Draco said.

"My parents are awake and I'm pregnant and I have to tell them, oh _gods_ -"

At that, Harry and Draco laughed in unison. "We'll figure something out," Harry promised, taking her hand and leading her into the house in search of the rest of her husbands with whom they could share the good news.

* * *

 **The web of lies is slowly untangling! Also, a sigh of relief that she's finally pregnant again, am I right? Things are slowly starting to fall into place. Every review means the world to me - can't wait to hear your thoughts.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Thank you to RESimon for being such an amazing beta!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

Hermione moaned loudly as she undulated her hips, grinding down on husband's cock. He echoed her moan, thrusting up to meet her movements.

"Hermione…" Arthur moaned, watching her breasts sway with her movements through half-lidded eyes.

She bit her lip, moaning again as she started to bounce on his cock.

"I'm coming," he gasped, grasping her hips so that he could piston up into her, causing her to cry out. She rubbed her clit furiously, coming just as she felt him shudder beneath her, releasing into her.

She ground down on him once more, feeling him shudder underneath her again before she slid off of him, panting. They cuddled together, sated as they enjoyed the ensuing silence.

She watched as Arthur smoothed a hand over the already noticeable swell of her stomach, smiling gently to himself. "It could be ours," he said, looking up at her with eyes that shone with adoration.

Hermione smiled back at him, pulling him into a sweet kiss.

"Have you told them yet?" he asked when they pulled back. It had only been a few days, but her pregnancy was already showing itself quite prominently, and she'd had to take special care to wear only robes around her parents, ensuring not to hug them as tightly as she had before.

She sighed. "Not yet," she said. "I just don't know how. They've only just found out about Emma and…" she trailed off.

"I understand," he said, kissing her shoulder. "They've only just gotten accustomed to many things in your life, and there is still so much that they don't know."

"I still have to figure out where they'll be living until they find a suitable new home," she said. "Kingsley has offered a flat he owns in muggle London, and Harry, Sirius, Neville, and Draco have offered to purchase them a home anywhere they'd like," she added, scowling at the last part.

Arthur chuckled at her indignation. "I suppose it would be inadvisable to keep them here much longer," he mused. "Perhaps you should consider Kingsley's offer, even if just for a short while until they can get themselves established once again."

"I'm the reason that they even have to think about getting themselves reestablished in the first place," she said sadly. "And now I have to consider accepting my husbands' offers because of the position I've put them in?"

"They understand, though," he said. "They're your parents and they would still love you, even if you had done much worse," he added.

"I know," she sighed. "it's just so hard to have to watch them start over, knowing that it was my fault."

He pulled her into a sweet kiss, letting it linger for a few moments. "Think of it as a new beginning," he said smiling down at her. "They may end up choosing early retirement because they no longer have the stress of maintaining their business, and they know that their daughter has been well taken care of. And," he moved down so he could kiss her little bump, "They have another grandchild on the way. It's all a parent could want," he assured her.

She nodded, burrowing deeper into his chest and allowing herself to be soothed by the sound of his heartbeat.

 **X**

Hermione found herself once again lying upon a bed in one of the lavish suites at St. Mungo's, this time her heart feeling much lighter than it had the past few instances that she'd visited. All eight of her husbands had accompanied her, which still surprised her despite the persuasive letter the Ministry had sent them, encouraging them to do so.

Everyone was quiet as they waited for Healer Browne to arrive, and she wondered idly how many of them would continue to accompany her to her appointments, hovering anxiously as they waited for positive news. She knew it was maddening for them being unable to find out who the father was until the birth.

The doors slid open, and Healer Browne stepped through, smiling at her family. "Welcome," she said, giving Hermione a warm smile.

"It's nice to see you," she said, smiling back.

"Congratulations," Healer Browne said, summoning her stool in taking up her perch at the end of the bed.

"Thank you," Hermione– along with several of her husbands–said in unison.

Healer Browne chuckled, gently placing Hermione's feet into the stirrups on either side of the bed. This time, Hermione felt no embarrassment, only eager anticipation as she waited with bated breath to hear whether everything was going accordingly or not.

After a few minutes, Healer Browne slid back, nodding at her with a small smile. "All is well, Healer Granger," she said. "According to my calculations, you should be due in just under three months."

Hermione sighed happily, feeling Neville and Sirius squeeze her hands from where they stood on either side of her.

Harry sighed audibly from across the room, causing Healer Browne to raise an eyebrow. "Is everything quite alright, Mr. Potter?" She asked her brow furrowed in concern.

Hermione laughed. "He's fine," she explained. "He's just anxious to find out who the father is, is all," she said.

Healer Browne gave her a tight smile before standing, turning for the door. Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion, watching the women's suddenly rigid stance. "You know something, don't you?" she said, watching as the older woman froze.

At that, all eyes in the room shot to Healer Browne, who turned to look at her guiltily. "I…"

"You what?" Harry said anxiously, standing from his seat.

"Have you known about who the fathers were this entire time?" Hermione asked incredulously. "You said that you couldn't tell us during my first pregnancy," she accused.

Healer Browne sighed. "We're under strict orders not to divulge any information that is not immediately pertinent to the family, which they've unfortunately decided includes parentage," she said, frowning at Hermione.

"Please tell us," Hermione begged. "You know I won't tell anyone," she said.

"Please," Hermione said, looking into her eyes.

Healer Browne sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt," she said."Although—"

"Just tell us, please!" Neville said. "The anxiety is giving me a stomachache."

Healer Browne chuckled. She consulted with the parchment in front of her before looking out at Hermione with a small smile. "It's Draco Malfoy," she said finally.

The room was silent for a moment, and Hermione's eyes swung to Draco's, brimming with emotion as she immediately forgot about the presence of the other men in the room. "Draco," she whispered.

He crossed over to her, his eyes brimming with emotion as he pulled her into a tight hug. She dimly heard the other men excusing themselves from the room as she and Draco had their moment, holding him tight as he planted gentle kisses along her hair and face. They sat together cuddling for a long while, knowing words could not express the feelings that were swirling between them.

"This is all I've ever wanted," he said, kissing her gently. "You are all I've ever wanted," he added.

"I love you so much," she whispered, kissing him again. "We're having a baby," she whispered, still in awe at the revelation.

He smoothed a hand over the slight swell of her stomach, leaning in to give it a sweet kiss. "I'm your daddy," he whispered to her bump. "I already love you so much," he whispered.

Hermione's heart swelled with emotion at the interaction. She thought of the years they'd dated for, all that time spent being deeply in love but knowing that they were running on borrowed time, that their love could not last as long as they so deeply desired. But now…

Now she had him–forever. She felt as though she was going to burst with the elation she felt inside and pulled Draco up from her stomach to kiss him once more.

 **X**

Hermione let five more days pass before she admitted to herself that she could no longer hide the distinct swelling of her middle without arousing her parents' suspicions. Luckily, she reminded herself, the child was Draco's, so she could keep up her half-truths about her marriage to her parents at least until the birth of her next child. Yes, this reveal would be easy compared to what she would have to tell them in the future. Swallowing nervously, she pushed open the door to her parents' rooms, revealing them sitting alone in the sitting room. As of the previous day, they had been deemed recovered and Lucius and Severus no longer hovered over them during their waking hours.

"Morning Mum, Dad," she said as she entered, moving to sit on the sofa across from them.

"Good morning dear," her mother said. "Pinky has just taken Emma to change her–you just missed them."

Hermione nodded, giving her mother a small smile. "Was she behaving this morning?"

"She was an angel," Her father answered, looking starry-eyed at the mention of his granddaughter. "Although she did sting me, I think–"

Hermione cringed. "She does that every once in a while. The Healers said that babies often times have random bouts of spontaneous magic, but it is rarely harmful."

Her mother nodded. "It's nice to have an explanation for all the strange happenings at this time around," she laughed. "With you, we thought it was all sleep deprivation," she added with a laugh.

Hermione forced herself to laugh along with her parents.

"You did say that you are one of these witch doctors now, did you not?" her father asked.

Hermione nodded. "Mum, Dad, there's actually something that I wanted to talk to you about," she said carefully.

They nodded, looking at her expectantly.

"I'm, uh, well..." she hesitated.

"You're what, dear?" Her father asked, perplexed.

"I'mpregnant," she rushed.

Silence ensued.

"Again?" Her mother asked.

Hermione nodded meekly.

"Gods," her father said, running a hand through his short dark hair, "One time is an accident, but a second –"

"Actually… we were trying, this time," she said softly.

Silence, again.

"What do you mean you were trying?" her mother asked, her voice laced with incredulity.

"Haven't you thought about this? You know how much work Emma is, how could you possibly be ready for another? And you just started your career —"

"I'm ready for this, I promise," she said, looking between them. "I want this baby, so much."

"Oh Hermione," Her mother whispered, crossing the room to hug her daughter. Hermione melted into her mother's touch, squeezing her back tightly.

Her mother pulled back, pressing a hand gently over her daughter's stomach. She gasped when she felt the bump that was already present there. "Oh," She whispered, meeting her daughter's eyes as her own shone with tears.

Hermione pulled her into another hug, feeling her mother's tears wetting her shoulder as she cried.

She felt the sofa dip beside her as her father sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her and her mother. "We have missed so much," he said sadly. "But at least we will not miss this. You're a bright girl, Hermione, and if this is what you want we will support you. Besides, a grandchild will always be a blessing to us."

Hermione pulled back so she could give both her parents kisses on the cheek. "I love you so much," she said, pulling them back into a hug.

"We love you, too, dear," her mother said. "So, so much."

 **X**

Hermione was lying on a chaise lounge with Draco in their main sitting room when there was a knock on the door. She looked up to see Sirius leaning in the doorway with a bemused expression. She sat up, extricating herself from Draco's arms while giving him a soft smile.

"How are you feeling?" Sirius asked.

"Good," she said, smoothing a hand over her already prominent bump. "Amazing, actually," she added, giving Draco a meaningful smile.

"I'm glad," Sirius smiled, crossing over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Happy Anniversary," he said.

Hermione blushed at the meaningful look he gave her. She still marveled at how it was already the end of May, and their one year anniversary was already upon them. "Thank you," she said back, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

"We thought we'd surprise you for our celebrations tonight," he said, looking over at Draco who nodded.

"Oh?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. "I told you we didn't need to do anything special," she said, looking down at the ring they'd given her for her birthday. No one would tell her how much it had cost them, but judging from the flawless cut and clarity of the diamond band, she knew it hadn't been a negligible amount.

Draco stood, helping her to her feet. "You'll need to get dressed in something nice," he said.

Not an hour later, she was showered and dressed in a strapless red satin gown that gently swept along behind her as she moved. It accented the swell of her stomach and had a long slit that stretched up high on her thigh, exposing a leg that was accentuated by the tall stilettos she'd donned.

There was a long whistle from behind her, and she turned to see Neville leaning in the doorway of her closet alongside Draco, looking handsome in his muggle suit.

"Our wife has the most magnificent arse, doesn't she Longbottom?" Draco drawled as he leered at her.

"That she does," Neville agreed, laughing as she flushed.

"It just needs one last touch," Draco said, flicking his wand and causing a thick diamond necklace to fly into his open hand from elsewhere in the closet.

Hermione scoffed. "What is it with you and diamonds?"

Neville laughed as Draco rolled his eyes, quickly crossing and securing the necklace before adding a set of earrings.

"Stunning," he whispered, cradling her bump gently as he watched them in the mirror.

Even she had to admit that he was right, and she felt as though the beauty of the woman in the mirror matched his for once.

"Shall we?" Neville asked, clearing his throat.

Minutes later, they reappeared in what appeared to be a private room at an upscale restaurant where the rest of her husbands - sans Lucius and Severus, which was no surprise - awaited them. Each man was dressed in a tailored muggle suit, and all of their eyes swept appreciatively over her form. She smiled back, feeling her confidence swell under the looks of pure lust her men gave her.

"Happy Anniversary!" they chorused, raising glasses of champagne.

Draco pressed a flute of sparkling cider into her hand and she toasted with them.

"I believe many congratulations are in order on this evening," Kingsley said, smiling down at her as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "A new baby," he said, giving her bump a gentle rub. "And one year of surviving all of us with the utmost grace," he added with a chuckle that was echoed around the room.

"We know that it was quite the daunting task to take on," Arthur added. "But each of us feels incredibly honored to have a woman as incredible as yourself as our wife."

"You are an impeccable mother, and Emma adores you," Sirius said. "And we know that you will be just as amazing to all of our future children."

"I wasn't always certain about what my future held - or if I even had one at all - but now, knowing that it'll be with you makes me happy beyond words, and I am incredibly honored to be your husband," Harry added.

Tears shone in Hermione's eyes at her husbands' outpouring of love, and she opened and closed her mouth, flustered as she felt unable to form words. "I cherish every one of you," she managed finally.

"To Hermione," Kingsley said, lifting his flute of champagne in another salute.

"To Hermione!" her other husbands echoed.

 **X**

"So you've only two months left, then?" Her mother asked, eyes widening at the array of magical toys that buzzed around them.

"It's a magical thing," Hermione said vaguely. "It's kind of hard to explain."

Her mother stopped at a display that showcased a toddler-sized pool that featured colorful, life-like fish that flitted around the dummy that sat in it. "Is this safe?" she asked, snatching Emma's hand away as she immediately reached out to the water from where she was strapped to her grandmother's chest.

"It's fine, mum, don't worry," she said, picking up a charmed ladybug and letting it crawl over Emma's outstretched hand, to the child's delight.

"How do you navigate all of this?" her mother asked, awestruck. "How could you possibly choose?"

Hermione snorted. "Draco's already bought half the shop, and the rest is on its way."

Her mother sighed. "I wanted to pick out something for my newest grandchild, but perhaps your husband has already beat me to it," she said.

Hermione laughed. "Pick out anything you like, Mum. I'll cherish the one that came from you most of all."

Her mother laughed back, and Emma echoed it, still playing with the toy ladybug that crawled over her skin. "You've captured that man's entire heart," her mother said, smiling down at Emma. "And hers, too," she said, kissing her granddaughter's blonde curls.

"I'm happy, Mum," she said, realizing that it was true. She was happy. "I've already accomplished many things in the short time since I've become a healer, and I work when I can. Things have been quiet and relaxing since the war, and I didn't know how much I needed this peaceful consistency until I had it. I spend time with my husband, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter - she's my world," Hermione cooed at her baby, kissing her cheek. "And you and Dad are safe and well, now, too. I have all that I've ever wanted, and more," she said.

Her mother took her hand, squeezing it. "What matters most to me is your happiness, Hermione," she said.

Hermione gave her a quick hug. "So, how are you liking the flat so far?" she asked.

"It's...opulent," her mother said carefully. "I am curious, though - who is Kingsley Shacklebolt?"

Hermione froze. "He's...a dear friend of mine that offered to let you use his apartment in the interim," she answered carefully. "Why do you ask?"

"We've gotten some mail for him lately, is all," her mother said. "Curious isn't it? We thought the first letter was a mistake, but we've gotten at least a dozen so far."

"I'll mention it to him," Hermione said, letting out the breath she'd been holding.

* * *

 **Surprise! The father has been revealed a little early this time around. Can't wait to hear your thoughts.** **Reviews mean the world to me.**


	29. Chapter 29

**So many kudos to my beta, RESimon - you're the best to work with, and both my fics would be in *quite* the state without you.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

"Oh, how the tables have turned," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow at her husband as she slid off the hospital bed, fixing her robes.

Draco crossed his arms, ignoring her. "I just thought a little suspense would be nice, is all."

Hermione giggled. "If I recall correctly, you were very unimpressed when I decided to leave the gender to the birth last time," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"I just think it'll be nice, is all," he said. "All that matters to me is that I know that this baby is mine."

"I love you," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him down into a kiss.

"I love you, too," he said back, leaning his forehead against hers when they pulled away. His hands were nearly always planted on her bump now, and he constantly hovered over her, catering to her every need. "What shall we do today?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Hermione laughed. "Aren't you tired of me by now?"

"Never," Draco said, meeting her eyes meaningfully. "You're my world, Granger. Every moment spent with you is a moment I'll cherish forever."

She leaned up to give him another lingering kiss.

Her stomach growled then, interrupting them. "I think the baby's hungry," she said, rubbing her rounded belly.

"Daddy is on it," Draco cooed at her stomach before ushering them out of the room.

They went to a small muggle restaurant that served greasy American food. Draco turned up his nose as he watched her salivate over her cheeseburger, observing his own with trepidation.

"They don't even use utensils," he complained. "This is barbaric."

Hermione moaned happily as she took another bite of her burger. "Who cares?" she mumbled. "This is _divine_."

Draco blinked at her.

"What?" she asked, hastily wiping at her face.

"If a meal causes you to make _those_ noises then I'll have the kitchens prepare this... _burger_ concoction for you every day," he said pointedly, smirking at her.

She rolled her eyes, swirling a french fry in ketchup and popping it into her mouth. "What baby wants, baby gets," she shrugged.

"I've been thinking about names," he said. "If it's a girl, Cassiopeia-" he paused when she wrinkled her nose. "What, Granger?"

"It's awful, Draco," she deadpanned.

"We can call her Cassie for short," he shrugged.

"No."

Draco rolled his eyes. "If it's a boy, then Scorpius."

Hermione wrinkled her nose again.

He threw up his hands in the air. "Honestly, Granger, you're being too picky now-"

"That was two names, Draco!"

"Exactly! Two excellent options and you've rejected both of them-"

"Draco," she rolled her eyes, plopping another fry into her mouth.

"Fine," he crossed his arms. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know, maybe Sarah, if it's a girl-"

Draco made a face. " _Sarah_? It's so...common," he said.

"Well, I am a commoner, after all," she said indignantly.

"You are the wealthiest and most powerful witch in Britain," he said. "In Europe, actually - I've checked. Act accordingly."

Hermione rolled her eyes, at him again, wondering vaguely if they would stick after the number of times she'd done so in the past fifteen minutes.

"We can name her whatever you'd like, Granger," he said after a few moments of them eating in silence. "All that matters to me is that our baby is born safe and healthy."

She smiled, placing her hand over his where it lay on the table. "Me, too."

"Lyra," he said after a few more minutes of silence. "If it's a girl, I'd like to name her Lyra."

"I like it," she agreed. As if on cue, the baby kicked as well, volunteering its approval.

 **X**

Hermione was playing with Emma and Crookshanks on the floor of her nursery one evening when Severus Apparated in suddenly, startling her. They stared at each other for a moment before Hermione struggled to her feet.

"I can go if you'd like," she said when she stood, shifting awkwardly. He'd been cordial in the few encounters they'd had before she'd gotten pregnant again, but had refused her company since. He wasn't as cold as he had been previously, but he hadn't warmed much to her, either. She'd kept her distance, and had found him in Emma's nursery on more than one occasion of late.

He shook his head. "You may remain."

Emma tugged on Hermione's hem then, and Hermione reached down to pick up her daughter, cradling her gently. Crookshanks mewled as he, too, pawed at her robes, causing her to tut at him. "Now Crookshanks, you know I can't very well hold both of you," she scolded. "You will have your turn when I know that Emma won't cry."

As if in understanding, Crookshanks turned and stalked away, causing Hermione to roll her eyes at the creature.

Severus watched them quietly, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Would you like to hold her?" Hermione asked tentatively as she carefully watched his expression.

He was quiet for so long that she thought he wouldn't respond, but he eventually gave a soft nod.

"Emma, baby," Hermione asked, holding her out towards her father. "Will you let your daddy hold you?"

Severus reached out, and Hermione held her breath, fearful of him retreating if Emma squirmed away. Thankfully, she didn't and went into her father's arms happily. Crookshanks hissed loudly then, fur bristling and teeth bared as he took in Severus and Emma. He was crouched low, prepared to strike at the new intruder.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione scolded. "He is my husband, not your enemy. You mustn't attack him the way you did Pinky or I _will_ keep you locked in my rooms for the foreseeable future."

Crookshanks bristled for a moment longer, then trotted away, nosing at the glowing ball he and Emma had been playing with earlier.

Hermione watched Severus hold their daughter awkwardly, while Emma looked back at him curiously, reaching out a tiny hand to pull at his cheek. Hermione stifled a giggle as she watched their interaction. But when Emma suddenly babbled a new phrase, Hermione froze completely.

"Dada," Emma repeated, giggling as she tugged on her father's hair.

When the infant repeated the word yet again, Hermione unfroze, gasping. "Oh my goodness baby girl!" she exclaimed. "You're right, he is your daddy," she cooed, moving over to kiss her daughter's cheeks. "You are such a smart girl!"

Severus grunted, and she looked up at him, giving him a gentle smile. "She hasn't started speaking yet, but her babbling gets more coherent every day," Hermione explained. "She's grown so much," she added wistfully. "She can even stand on her own for a few seconds - she could start walking soon."

"Walking," Severus repeated quietly, watching their daughter.

"Mm," Hermione confirmed. "Can you believe that she's eight and a half months old already?"

"Eight and a half months," Severus breathed. He closed his arms around Emma until she was cradled to his chest, and Hermione smiled as she watched the infant gently lay her head on her father's shoulder, appearing quite content.

"I have missed...much," Severus said, holding their daughter close.

"You have much to look forward to," she answered easily, smiling down at Emma. "She's just perfect, isn't she?"

Severus was quiet, but nodded.

"She knows you, Severus," Hermione said softly after watching them for a few moments longer.

"Barely," he said. His voice held no emotion, yet she knew that something lingered near the surface.

"You have plenty of time to catch up," she smiled.

He nodded again, cradling Emma to his chest. Hermione peeked at Emma's face, feeling tears spring to her eyes as she saw how peaceful and serene her daughter looked in her father's arms.

"Are you alright?" Severus asked. She didn't realize that she'd made a choked sobbing noise until she saw him looking at her in concern.

"I'm fine," she said, giving him a watery smile. "It's just beautiful, seeing you together."

He held her gaze, his dark eyes swirling with an unreadable emotion.

"I apologize for not doing more for her," he said, looking down at her. "You…"

She searched his eyes, waiting for him to finish.

"Thank you for bearing me my daughter," he finished.

Hermione wanted to hug him then but feared his immediate rejection of the action. Instead, she settled for taking his hand, surprised by its warmth, which was a direct contrast to his cold exterior. She squeezed it gently, then let it go, nodding at him before she turned to leave, ushering Crookshanks out before her as she turned to go. The last thing she saw before she pulled the door closed was Severus turning to carry their daughter to her crib, cradling their sleeping child as though she was the most precious thing he had ever touched.

 **X**

Hermione was passing through the main sitting room of her and Lucius' suites when she felt a sudden wave of nausea and sank down onto the chaise lounge nearest her, sucking in sharp breaths as she tried to calculate if she'd have enough time to make it back to her bathroom.

She heard the door to Lucius' rooms open then, and when she looked up she was surprised to see him crossing over to her, frowning slightly.

"What's happened?" he asked sharply, looking her up and down.

"It's nothing, I'm just feeling a little nauseated," she said, waving a hand dismissively as she tried to stand. She stumbled, and Lucius caught her quickly, holding her up with a firm arm around her waist.

"Are you certain that's all?" he asked, his arm tightening around her as she attempted to take a step forward and stumbled once more.

"Y-yes," she said, feeling her vision getting hazy as her world started to sway. "I just need-" her body felt weak suddenly - very weak, and she fell limp into Lucius' arms.

"Are you in pain?" he asked urgently, scooping her up as he strode toward her rooms.

"No, I just-" her mouth felt thick as she tried to form the words, and she swallowed before attempting to speak again. "I…" she trailed off, rolling her head back as she tried to speak, feeling as sluggish as though she was underwater.

They were moving then, and her world dissolved into a blur of color as Lucius moved quickly through her rooms. "Draco," she breathed, vaguely registering Lucius depositing her into her bed.

She hadn't realized that she'd passed out until she blinked open heavy lids to see Healer Johnson's face floating in front of her, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Are you with us again, Mrs. Malfoy?" he asked concernedly.

"Yes," she croaked, looking behind him to see Draco hovering in the background, looking frazzled.

"Are you in pain?" Healer Johnson asked.

She shook her head. "No," she said. "Just a little tired."

The older healer's mouth was set in a frown as he analyzed the diagnostics in the air above her. Hermione craned her neck as she tried to read them, but her limbs felt like lead.

"Your blood pressure is high," he said eventually. "And Mr. Malfoy informed me of your other symptoms."

"-preeclampsia, then," Hermione concluded sadly.

He nodded. "I'm afraid so. It appears mild at this point, but you have been showing some symptoms that border on severe. I would recommend bed rest for now," he said.

Hermione nodded, smoothing a hand over her rounded belly. "And the baby?" she asked.

"The baby is fine, and I will return daily to check your condition. You should be due in the next few weeks, and it is imperative that you remain in bed until then, Mrs. Malfoy."

She nodded in understanding, and Healer Johnson turned to Draco, giving him a list of instructions and potions to be administered. He left with a nod to them, leaving her alone with Draco, who immediately rushed to her side.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. "You can tell me the truth."

"I'm alright, Draco, I promise," she said, cupping his cheek gently. "Just a little tired."

He searched her eyes before nodding. "I won't leave your side," he said, and she nodded gratefully. He climbed into the bed behind her, gently wrapping his arms around her waist.

She snuggled back into him, falling back asleep cradled in his warmth.

 **X**

Hermione blinked her eyes open to see the soft glow of moonlight illuminating her room, signifying the late hour. She'd awoken after yet another heated dream of herself in bed with a husband she couldn't identify, waking just at the moment she'd been about to tumble off the precipice of pleasure. She turned to snuggle into Draco, craving the only intimate contact he'd allowed since she'd been assigned bed rest. When she turned her head over, however, she was surprised to see that Draco was awake himself. He hadn't noticed that she'd awoken, however, and it took a moment of focus for her to realize why.

His head was leaned back against the headboard, and his eyes were squeezed shut as he bit his lip in concentration. He was wearing only a pair of pants, and she let her eyes travel down past the contracting muscles of his bare torso to where his hand was beneath his shorts, moving in a telltale rhythmic motion.

"Draco?" she whispered, and he froze instantly, his eyes flying to her.

"Granger?" he said, quickly dragging his hand out of his pants. She thought she spotted a blush coloring his cheeks and smiled at him languidly.

"Why did you stop?" she whispered, looking pointedly at where she could see the outline of his cock straining against his pants.

"Go back to sleep, Granger," he said, tugging at the sheets that she held taut in her hand.

Hermione shook her head. "Take off your pants," she pressed. "I want to watch."

"You know we can't, Granger, you need to rest-"

"I just want to watch," she said, running a hand along his abdomen.

At that, he groaned again, his eyes darkening for a quick moment of indecision before he tugged his pants off, his rock-hard cock bouncing up against his stomach. He started fisting his cock slowly, groaning as he met the hungry look in her eyes.

"What do you think about?" she asked softly, tracing a finger along his bare skin.

"You," he moaned. "Always you."

She smiled at him before biting her lip as she watched him fist his cock harder, still watching her intently. His pupils were blown with lust, discernibly dark with desire even in the minimal lighting of her rooms. She tugged at the straps of her nightgown until her breasts slid out, and Draco moaned in response, reaching out a hand to knead one softly.

"Fuck, Granger," he groaned, panting. "Want you - always."

She bit her lip, then lifted her nightgown, exposing her bare pussy to him. "I want you, too," she whispered, trailing down a hand to her mons. "Take me, Draco."

Draco groaned, stopping his movements. "You know I want to, Granger, _so bad_ , but Healer Johnson said you need to take it easy, and that almost definitely means _no sex_."

"I'm a healer too," she grumbled, crossing her arms. "It'll be fine!"

"You're also the excessively horny one," Draco deadpanned. "Forgive me if I'm not exactly trusting of your judgment at the moment."

She huffed again in response.

"You know how much I want you," he said. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"And I told you that you won't!"

Draco sighed as he met her pleading gaze. "Just my fingers," he said finally.

Hermione pouted again.

"I could just go back to sleep-"

"Fine!" she said, grabbing his hand before he could turn over again. "Please, Draco," she begged, spreading her legs. She took his hand and slid it down between her legs, pressing down against her clit.

"Mmm," she moaned, biting her lip as Draco started to tease small circles around her clit.

"Tell me," Draco's voice was pitched low. "Tell me how you want it," he said, nibbling at her ear.

She let out a breathy moan as his fingers dipped lower, ghosting teasingly across her pussy lips.

"Draco," she breathed. "More, please,"

He chuckled lowly. "I love it when you beg." He slipped a finger between her folds, breaching her entrance just enough to make her arch her back, squirming as she sought more friction.

"Please," she moaned, clutching his arm.

Draco complied suddenly, shoving two fingers inside her and pumping hard.

"Oh!" she cried out as he increased his pace, roughly finger-fucking her. It was heaven. The second he pressed a thumb to her clit, she came, convulsing around his fingers.

When she came down from her high, however, she was still strung high on the feeling of his fingers that were still inside of her, pumping slowly through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"Draco," she moaned. "I need you," she said, squeezing his cock.

He stifled a moan, attempting to pull away. "We can't, Granger."

She gripped his cock harder, giving him a pleading look. "I want you, Draco."

He groaned. "I always want you - fuck!" he exclaimed as her hand squeezed his cock again, pumping it slowly.

His fingers were still inside her, and she ground down on him in time with her pumps.

"Turn around," Draco commanded suddenly, pulling her hand off his cock.

When she whined, he pushed her gently until she was lying on her side. "Draco-" she started, then gasped as he hitched her leg over his thigh and drove his cock into her core.

"Ohh," she moaned, grinding down on him. He started thrusting shallowly, dragging his cock in and out of her as gently as though she were glass.

He planted gentle kisses across her skin, murmuring words of adoration as he moved.

"Faster, Draco," she moaned after a few minutes of his ministrations.

"Just relax into it," he said instead. "Just feel me." As he spoke, she felt a gentle wave rising within her, building slowly as he continued to thrust into her. She let out quiet gasps and pants as it continued to rise, crying out in pleasure when it crashed over her, bathing her in ecstasy.

 **X**

After three weeks of bed rest, Hermione was thoroughly restless. Draco had rarely left her side, spending his days entertaining her or perched over her desk, rifling through mounds of paperwork and occasionally muttering to himself. She'd had the elves move Emma's crib to her rooms, and with the combination of the elves tending to her and her child, in addition to Healer Johnson's visits - as well as many from her other concerned husbands - there had been a steady amount of traffic through her rooms of late.

It was late one night when Hermione woke, noting the soft moonlight floating through her tall windows. She stretched, extracting herself from Draco's arms as she swung her legs over the bed. Before she could move to stand, however, she froze, noticing a dark figure standing over Emma's crib. She snatched up her wand and a spell as tumbling forth when the figure turned slightly, revealing that it was none other than Severus Snape.

"Severus?" she called in a whisper, mindful of Draco's soft snores that emitted from behind her.

He turned, eyebrows raised slightly. "I apologize," he said. "I did not mean to frighten you."

"It's fine," she said, standing slowly. "Is Emma alright?" she asked as she approached.

He nodded, and Hermione peeked into the crib to see her daughter sleeping peacefully, ever the picture of cherubic innocence.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Hermione said, admiring their daughter.

"Mm," Severus grunted. "Have you been well?" he asked after a few moments of silence, looking at her rounded belly.

"Yes," she whispered. "I have a mild case of preeclampsia, but it's nothing critical."

"Good," he said quietly. "And your parents?"

"They're well," she said. "They've been enjoying their time with Emma, and even wish to take her for the weekend - if you approve, of course," she said after a long bout of silence.

He nodded, eyes still trained on Emma.

"My gratitude to you and Lucius for what you did...it knows no bounds," she added softly.

He met her eyes then, and she was surprised was the dark intensity that swam within them. She lifted a gentle hand and cupped his cheek, surprised when he showed her no resistance.

Before she could move again, he snatched her forward suddenly, drawing her into a deep, bruising kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing herself impossibly closer even as he crushed her to his body. This kiss was not as sweet as she had gotten used to her other husbands - no, this was fueled by lust and need, and she leaned into it hungrily, letting out a small moan which granted him entrance to her mouth. It felt almost as though he was trying to consume her, his possessiveness almost tangible enough in the air around them to touch with her bare hands. The kiss was raw with frustration, all teeth, and tongues–

Draco let out a snore, causing them to spring apart. Hermione turned to see her other husband now sprawled on his back, still deep asleep. When she turned back to where Severus had stood earlier, he was already gone, the lingering tingle of his kiss on her lips the only evidence that he had been there at all.

* * *

 **Only one more chapter until the birth! Reviews mean the world to me.**


	30. Chapter 30

**Thank you to RESimon, as always - I couldn't have asked for a better beta.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY**

A sharp pain in her side tore Hermione out of her sleep, and she cried out, doubling over. Immediately, Draco was upon her, holding her up and placing a cup of water to her lips.

"Is it time?" he asked when she finished.

"I think so," she said, watching as a beatific smile lit up his face.

"It's only half six, so let's get you to the floo and I'll have Blinky inform the others," he said, gently helping her out of the bed.

She giggled when he bent to put on her slippers for her, and he looked up at her curiously. "What is it?"

"We're having a baby," she said, laughing again. "We're going to meet our baby soon!"

Draco picked her up and laughed, swinging her in a circle until she cried out as another contraction hit.

"Let's get you dressed," he said, putting her down and rushing to her closet, and she waddled over after him, bursting with excitement.

 **X**

By the time early afternoon came around, Hermione was decidedly less excited. Unlike Emma's birth, the new baby was taking its sweet time to show its face, leaving its parents anxious as they eagerly awaited its arrival.

"Do be patient, dear," her mother smiled as Hermione huffed for the third time in as many minutes.

Hermione plopped an ice chip into her mouth, chewing it angrily. "I'm hungry," she moaned. She looked down at her bulging belly and poked it gently. "Don't you want to meet mummy?" she asked the baby and was met with an answering kick. She groaned again, flopping her head back onto her pillow.

Her mother smiled at her antics, taking her daughter's hand. "I'm sure the baby will be here soon," she said. "And Draco-" she added, turning to where Hermione's husband was pacing in the corner "- do stop your pacing, dear. You're bound to give them _both_ vertigo."

At that, Draco stopped, crossing over to sit in the other chair at Hermione's bedside. "I apologize, Mrs. Granger," he said, running a hand through his hair.

The door to her room slid open then, admitting Healer Browne. She smiled at them, pulling up her stool at the end of the bed. "Let's check you again, shall we?" she said.

"Let's," Hermione agreed.

Healer Browne ducked between her legs for a few moments before emerging with a small smile on her face. "It's time," she announced.

Draco jumped up immediately, giving her a deep kiss while she laughed at his enthusiasm. "Daddy is so excited to meet you," he cooed at her middle.

Another healer entered then, and she held Draco's hand as they instructed her to push. She pushed until she panted for breath, and her mother crossed to her other side, taking her other hand.

"You can do this," her mother assured her after her fifth push, smiling down at her.

"One more!" Healer Browne instructed. Hermione pushed as hard as she could, stopping only when she heard the distinct cries of her baby as it was introduced to the world.

Her mother started to sob then, and Hermione pulled her close, hugging her tight as she watched the healers tend to her baby.

"It's a girl," Healer Browne announced as she approached with the bundle, handing her to Hermione.

"She's perfect," Draco whispered when Hermione handed the bundle to him.

There was the snap of a camera, and Hermione and Draco turned to see her mother smiling at them, a magical camera in her hand.

"Where on earth did you get that?" Hermione asked.

Her mother shrugged. "It was in the flat, gathering dust."

Hermione smiled, turning back to Draco and their daughter. The newborn blinked open her eyes, and Hermione gasped at the beauty of the brilliant silver they shone.

"Wow," Draco breathed, awestruck. They all cooed over the baby for a long while as healers flitted in and out of the room, checking on mother and child alike.

Things had finally begun to quiet down when there was a soft rap at the door. When it opened, Hermione smiled as she saw Harry walk in, brandishing an elaborate bouquet of flowers.

"Congratulations," he smiled, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for coming," she smiled, squeezing Harry's hand affectionately. Draco's eyes widened from where he stood behind Harry, and she looked at him, puzzled until he flicked his eyes urgently down to her hand. She looked down to see that her rings had shifted to match the molten gold of Harry's, and she snatched her hand away from his, giving a panicked look in her mother's direction. Blessedly, her mother's eyes were on Harry's face, and she was smiling up at him.

"How are you doing, Mrs. Granger?" he asked as he turned to her mother, giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek as well.

"It's so nice to see you, Harry," she smiled.

Harry and Draco soon began to coo over the baby once again, and Hermione watched on with a smile at the enamored looks on her husbands' faces.

There was another knock at the door, and this time when it opened she was surprised to see Lucius enter, looking as poised as ever as he nodded his greetings to the room's occupants.

"Hello, Lucius," she said softly. "Would you like to meet your granddaughter?"

He looked at Draco, whose stance had gone rigid as he held their daughter in his arms. She wondered if Draco would deny him, and let out the small breath she'd been holding when he handed the child to his father, albeit stiffly.

"She already looks just like her father," Hermione's mother said, completely unaware of the tension that had descended over the room. "She has his eyes."

Lucius nodded, looking down at the infant with an unreadable expression on his face.

The door slid open again, this time admitting Healer Browne. "I see we have some additional visitors - welcome," she said, keeping her face impassive as she smiled at Hermione's other husbands. Hermione shot her a grateful smile, happy that she had picked up on Hermione's silent plea.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" Healer Browne asked as Lucius carefully set the baby down in the clear-walled crib that had been provided for her.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Lyra. Lyra Anne Malfoy," she said, smiling.

"It's a beautiful name, 'Mione," Harry said.

Healer Browne smiled, then waved her wand at the empty plaque on the infant's crib.

As the words appeared on the plaque, Hermione's smile dropped completely.

 _Lyra Anne Malfoy,_ the plaque read. _Parents: Hermione J. Malfoy and Lucius A. Malfoy._

The ensuing silence was deafening.

Hermione's heart started to race as she continued to stare at the names on the plaque, horrified. She looked up at Draco, whose face clearly reflected the depth of his heartache as he looked down at the baby before he slowly raised his eyes to look at his father. The intensity of the resentment she saw burning in his eyes was thick in the atmosphere, and the look Lucius gave him in return was unreadable.

"Draco-" she started, reaching out to touch him. Before she could make contact, he tore away from her, storming out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving them in that awful silence once more.

Hermione swallowed the sob that threatened to burst forth. She took a deep breath before looking at her mothers, whose expression was hard, her normally full lips thinned into a line as she looked back at Hermione. Before Hermione could say anything, her mother stood, heading for the door. "I'll give you a moment," she said stiffly.

"I'll, just, uh," Harry said as he, too, went to the door, giving Hermione a sympathetic look.

Not a moment later, she and Lucius were alone. Hermione's stomach rolled in sickening waves as she replayed what had just happened over and over in her head, her memory lingering on the most awful part like a broken cassette tape - Draco. Her mother. Lucius. Over and over the memories replayed as nausea rose in her stomach, and she forced herself to take deep, steady breaths as she tried to keep the queasiness in her stomach at bay. The room was near silent save for the diagnostic spell hanging over her head that beeped out her rapid heartbeat. She closed her eyes, attempting to concentrate on her breathing before they abruptly flew open again as she emptied the meager contents of her stomach onto the floor beside her bed. She vanished the mess as quickly as she made it, and wordlessly accepted the glass of water Lucius handed to her.

"Will you care for her?" Hermione broke the silence, her voice hard.

"She is my daughter," Lucius answered.

"I wasn't ready for this," Hermione answered, watching him carefully. "I didn't want this yet, because my heart breaks each time I think of the father of my child and not loving them as completely as I do— as completely as they deserve. I need you to care for her despite the fact that she is mine as much as she is yours. I know how you felt about me — about my kind — for all those years of your life, and I need to know if that has ended — if it will ever end — because our daughter is here now and I cannot take the heartbreak of warring with yet another father of my child while I wait with bated breath to see if he will accept her or not."

Lucius turned his gaze to her, his eyes unreadable as he took in her expression. She knew the weariness she felt deep in her soul was plainly visible on her face as she took in this shocking new reality. She still felt winded by the harsh blow that had just shattered the happy months that had passed by as she'd awaited the birth of her first child with her first love.

She lifted her hand, looking at the colors her rings displayed in the low light of the sunset outside. "This," she murmured, eyes still trained on the rings, "this is our new reality, and it cannot be undone. I can no more be extracted from you than our daughter can. These are the consequences of the war that your kind brought down upon us, but I will not continue to suffer because of it. I know not where your loyalties have lain for the past three years, but I do know that the aftermath of the war is not something that can be rejected — and neither is our daughter."

"She is my blood," Lucius said softly after a few moments of tense silence.

"Blood," she whispered. "Does that still matter to you?" she asked, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

"No," he answered after a long silence.

She searched his eyes for a long moment, wishing she could read what swirled in their depths as he looked back at her.

"You do not have to love me," she whispered, feeling a sense of déjà vu as she repeated nearly the exact words she had said to Severus nearly a year ago. "But love her. Love her and the way I know that you love Draco, and cherish her and know differently, no matter what her blood status is."

"I do love her," Lucius said finally, his eyes burning with sincerity.

She searched them for a moment longer before nodding, biting back the tears that threaten to burst forth as she reflected upon the situation that had suddenly been thrust upon her that she had thought she would have been able to avoid for at least a while longer.

The door opened then, admitting Healer Browne, who had a solemn look on her face. "I must apologize to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," she said sadly, meeting Hermione's eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Hermione said, knowing her voice wavered all the same as she forced out the words. "We are all aware that the magic involved in all of this is fickle."

Healer Browne nodded. "As you are aware, many bonded families include multiple family members. This is due to the fact that their magical cores are very similar. As a result, when determining parentage, it is possible that the determination can be…" she trailed off.

Hermione nodded, opting to look at her daughter, remembering what was most important about this situation. "Is she healthy?"

Healer Browne nodded. "All of her tests have come back with positive results. Your daughter is in good health, and once we've finished our analysis of your health, you will be cleared to return home," she said before clearing her throat awkwardly. "I'll… give you some time to think of a name," she added, flicking her wand so that the name field on the plaque was now empty.

It was quiet as they were left alone again, and Lucius was the one to break the silence. "I can leave if you so desire," he said.

Hermione shook her head, lifting their daughter out of the bassinet. "I will not deny you access to her," she said.

He nodded, moving to sit in one of the chairs near the bed. His eyes never strayed from his daughter, and he only looked away when Hermione nursed her. His eyes flickered with surprise when Hermione made to hand their daughter to him, hesitating only for a moment before taking her into his arms.

"I know that this is not what you wanted," he said eventually. "But I will be good to her," he added softly.

Hermione looked at him, mildly surprised at his words.

"Do you have a name in mind?" Hermione asked, swallowing as she tried to disassociate the name Lyra with the infant.

She jumped minutely when Lucius' hand folded over hers, and she looked up to see him watching her once more. "I am sorry that she is not Draco's," he said. "And I… I am not bothered that she is yours. You have shown me many things about muggles that I had not previously considered," he added stiffly.

Hermione said nothing but watched where his hand lay on top of hers. Her rings swirled a rich emerald green, the beauty of the color causing her to catch her breath for a moment.

"Carina," she said quietly, and she looked up at him.

"Carina," he repeated, looking down at their baby. "Carina Geneva," he added.

Hermione nodded. "It's beautiful," she said.

"Rest," Lucius said, pulling away so that he could put down their baby - Carina. "Everything else can be dealt with on the morrow," he smoothed a hand over her hair in a careful gesture, surprising her with the intimacy of his touch.

At that moment, it felt as though the weariness and sadness she's been feeling since the parentage of her child had been revealed all came down on her with a force that took her breath away, and she felt herself drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **I know, I know. Can't wait to hear your thoughts.**


	31. Chapter 31

**So much love for my beta, RESimon - thank you for all that you do.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**

It was late afternoon, and Hermione and Harry were sitting on her bed, cuddling in amicable silence as she nursed Carina.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked, kissing her cheek.

"I'm…" she hesitated, trailing off as she looked down at her daughter. The child had a head of platinum hair and her eyes still shone a bright silver, reflective of both her father and her brother. The thought made her heart clench.

"It'll be alright, 'Mione," he promised, this time giving her a chaste peck on the lip. "And even though it isn't right now…I will always be here for you."

Hermione smiled back, knowing it didn't meet her eyes.

"I love you," Harry said, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you more than words can express, and it hurts to see you like this."

"I love you too," she answered, letting her eyes flutter shut as she breathed in his familiar scent.

"Whatever you need, I will do anything in my power to provide it," he reminded her.

Hermione nodded, giving him a stiff smile. "It's been two days," she said, looking sadly out the window. "Two days, and nothing but silence –"

Harry sighed. "He just needs time," he said. "This has all been quite a shock to him, and you know that their relationship isn't the best—"

"My husband has been missing for two days, Harry!" she interjected, cutting him off. "I need to find him," she added, her voice breaking.

Harry rubbed his eyes, making his spectacles go askew as he sighed again. He looked at her once more before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. He handed it to her wordlessly, and she looked at the short address that was written on it before looking up at him with a puzzled expression. "Is this where…?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "I am Auror, after all," he said. "I just wanted to give him as much space as he needed before giving it to you."

Hermione hugged him awkwardly, mindful of Carina in her arms. "I love you," she said as she pulled back, giving him a quick peck. "Will you…?" she said, gesturing to Carina.

Harry nodded, taking the newborn from her arms. "Maybe you should go see your parents first," he said.

Hermione sighed as she summoned her cloak from her closet. "I owled them letting them know that I would come to see them soon," she said, sighing. "I just– I need to speak with Draco first," she said.

"'Mione, I…" Harry wavered. "I'm sorry. About all of it," he added.

Hermione nodded. "I know," she said.

Hermione apparated to an alleyway not far from the Italian restaurant Draco had taken her to on several dates. It was a trendy area of London, and many poshly dressed muggle Londoners milled about around her, the men smelling of expensive cologne while the women toted about luxurious handbags. She walks a few short blocks to the address Harry had jotted down on the parchment she held in her hand, finding herself at the entry to a luxurious building where a doorman automatically pulled open the door for her, ushering her inside with a smile.

"Welcome, Mrs. Malfoy," an older man dressed in a dark suit greeted her, giving her a welcoming smile. "Right this way," he said, gesturing towards a gleaming bank of elevators.

Hermione gave him a tight smile as she went into the elevator, watching as the man pressed the topmost button before giving her a small bow and stepping out just as the doors closed. The ride up to the top floor was quick and silent, and it was only moments later and that she was stepping out into an elaborate entryway that was tiled in marble and decorated with elaborate sculptures and paintings. As she walked past, she noticed that she recognized each piece of art, realizing that they were her favorites. Her jaw dropped in awe as she reached out the finger to touch the gilded frame of a famed Renaissance painting, feeling the familiar tingle of a preservation spell over the painting. By the time she walked into the large sitting room with a window wall that overlooked her favorite view in London, she realized exactly what this place was.

Draco sat on a large, plush sofa that dominated the room, staring blankly at the equally blank screen of the large television across from him.

"Draco?" she called, and he looked up at her, the look in his eyes at once breaking her heart. "Oh, Draco," she called, rushing over to him and gathering him into her arms.

He complied instantly, folding into her arms as easily as Emma often did.

"I know that this isn't what you wanted," she said. "But we will get through this, and you have a new sister –"

"He doesn't deserve her," his voice was low but hard. "He doesn't deserve _you_."

"Draco, he's your father, you can't be at odds with him forever," she said softly.

He didn't reply but did not pull away, either. They sat together for a long while, silent as she carded her fingers through his delicate blond hair.

"I bought this place for you —for us," he said, breaking the silence.

Hermione nodded, looking around. "The paintings…you didn't…?"

"You are worth every well-placed confundus I used," he said. "You…you are everything, Granger," he said.

His voice sounded broken, so broken that it broke her, too.

"Draco," she murmured, looking around at the furnishings that were somehow at once opulent and suited exactly to her tastes.

"I–I bought this before we were married, actually," he said. "it's been nearly a year and a half now, I think."

At that, she sat up straight, looking down at him in surprise. " I don't… understand," she said finally. She calculated the timeline in her head thrice, then looked around at the apartment that seemed perfectly tailored to her tastes once more.

He nodded, straightening himself. "I never stopped loving you," he said as he looked up at her meaningfully.

"You… you were going to try…?" She said, seeing the raw honesty reflected in his eyes.

He nodded. "When I saw that you… you and Weasley had broken up, I knew that I needed to at least try, or I would forever regret not knowing whether you could have taken me back or not."

She was at a loss for words at his confession, the love and adoration she saw in his eyes each day taking on new meaning.

"I tried to come to you– many times, actually," he continued. "I used to come up with any excuse imaginable to spend my days lurking at the Ministry or St. Mungo's, waiting for you to pass by."

She swallowed, recalling the many times that she had thought she'd seen his shock of platinum hair in the crowd, only to shake her head and train her eyes on the floor, refusing to even think of having to face the man who had broken her heart.

"But every time… every time, you were with someone. Shacklebolt, Potter… always someone. You always looked so beautiful, so focused, that each time I would shy away, fearing you throwing back all the pain I had caused you in the worst way, even though I knew I deserved it.

"And then one day, I came home to see father waiting for me in the sitting room as I stepped out of the floo, Astoria and her parents sitting there quietly. They didn't need to tell me what or why– I already knew what was happening from the moment I caught the look in father's eyes. Duty," He spat. "Always duty– even after everything, even after we almost lost everything, I was still bound by _duty_. I always wondered if he had known when he saw you testifying at my trial, if he had seen the way I was looking at you then and decided that he needed to have me married off before the year was out, lest I sully a centuries-old bloodline."

She looked away, knowing that he was still unaware that they had actually been caught that dreadful night at Hogwarts.

"It broke me, and I decided that same night that I needed to go to you, I couldn't hesitate any longer, and that was the night that I waited at St. Mungo's for you until well after dark, standing in the pouring rain When you did come out, though, you were arm in arm with Potter, you were giving him the look–" his voice broke and he paused before trying again to finish his sentence. "The look that you used to give only to me."

"Draco," she breathed, reaching over to wipe away the stray tear that had fallen down his cheek.

"He raised me to value wealth, and I did. Then, he taught me to value power, showing that bending people to one's will is one of the greatest joys of life. Then, he taught me to value my superiority, forcing it into me until that word —" he said, peeking at her covered forearm, "–that awful word slid off of my tongue with ease."

"But you… you were the first thing I ever truly wanted. And our baby… our baby was the second," he whispered. "And now-now I have to share you with _him_ , even though he has never deserved you."

She pulled him into her arms, hugging him into her as she felt the pain radiating off of him.

"Draco," she said after a long silence. "There are things… things that you don't yet understand about him."

Draco didn't respond.

"He was working for the Order," she breathed.

At this, Draco stiffened.

"He was _what_?"

"He was working for the Order, in the end," she repeated.

Draco's hands curled into fists. "For how long?" His voice was a low growl.

She bit her lip, taking in his angry, rigid stance. "I can't be certain, but… it may have been as early as when he was released from Azkaban," her last words were a whisper.

"When he was released from Azkaban?" Draco's voice was cold.

"Possibly. He wasn't always–" Hermione started, but he cut her off.

He stood suddenly, his eyes swirling with rage as he slammed a fist into the wall. "He was working with them from then and yet he still let those things happened to my mother and I?!"

"Draco, I don't know why he went about things the way he did, but he was trying –"

"You were tortured!" he thundered. "You were tortured in the very home you now live in!"

She swallowed, forcing down the horrifying memory that still plagued her dreams. "Draco –"

"How does this make him any better?" Draco snapped.

"You're all he has. You and Carina are all he has," she said, shocked by the truth of it. She wondered about the sacrifices Lucius had had to make while aiding the Order, realizing how much pain his choices during the war must have caused him. All he had left was Draco, Carina, and… herself.

"It doesn't matter," Draco answered. "It's all bollocks anyway."

Hermione sighed, standing. "I'll give you some space," she said. "I know that none of this is what you wanted, but still, I beg of you to try and understand."

Once again, Draco did not respond.

"I love you," she whispered before she left.

 **X**

It was late evening when Hermione stepped through the floo and into the living room of Kingsley's flat in Muggle London. The room was quiet and dark, but her mother sat on the large, plush sofa before her, her eyes trained on something she held in her hand.

"Mum," she whispered. Her shame at the way her carefully placed lies had crumbled before her in the most awful way came slamming back into her with terrible force. "Mum, I–"

"When I took this photograph," her mother said, turning over what Hermione now recognized as the photograph she had taken of Hermione and Draco smiling down at Carina in the hospital, "I thought that seeing you with your happy family was one of the greatest moments a mother could experience."

"Mum," Hermione choked, biting her lip as it trembled.

"Imagine my shock, then," her mother continued, "when it turned out that my new grandchild had been fathered by the man I had thought was her grandfather." Her voice was devoid of emotion, lacking the warmth that Hermione had always heard in it. It broke her heart.

Her mother looked up at her then, her brown eyes filled with a disappointment so severe that Hermione felt her heart crumbling even more. "Explain this— Explain this to me, because I cannot begin to comprehend why or how this could have happened. I thought I knew my daughter, but now… now it feels as though I know nothing at all about you or the woman you've become in the two years that I've lost."

"Mum, I…" she trailed off, knowing that she could not lie any longer, yet the words could not form themselves.

"Please," her mother begged. "Please tell me that you didn't cheat on your husband with his own father," her voice was a strangled whisper.

There was movement in Hermione's peripheral vision, and her eyes widened as she saw her father standing in the doorway. She knew instantly from the look in his eyes that he already knew what had transpired in her hospital room days before. He looked deeply ashamed and averted his eyes as quickly as she met them as if he couldn't bear to look at her for a moment longer. Her heart continued to shatter, splintering her chest with painful reminders of the path that her lies had brought her down.

"Please tell me that you aren't cheating on him with Harry, too, because the way he looks at you is not the way one looks at his friend, but the way a man looks at a woman. And your rings…" she buried her hands in her hair, looking up at her daughter with a tortured expression. "Please, please explain all of this because I no longer understand any of it."

Hermione twisted her fingers anxiously, too afraid to face the looks on her parents' faces. She was trembling slightly, and she knew she would not be able to quell it under the pressure of their disappointed gazes. She let out a deep breath. "I…" her voice trembled even more than her body. "I didn't… I didn't cheat on my husband."

Her parents said nothing, and she imagined the deep confusion that was likely etched on their faces.

"I…Lucius is my husband," she said.

At that, she heard the twin sharp intakes of breath of her parents as they took in her words.

"What?" Her mother asked. "Why would you lie about such a thing? But you… you and Draco…"

Hermione closed her eyes and took another breath before uttering her next words. "Draco…Draco and I are married as well."

Silence.

When she finally looked up, both of her parents were gaping at her.

"I didn't lie to you about Draco," she said quietly. "He is my husband. And I do love him. But Lucius…Lucius is my husband, too."

"And he is Emma's father?" Her mother asked, her voice hard.

Hermione shook her head. Her eyes were still trained on the polished wood floor, so she heard only her parents' sharp intakes of breath once more.

"Who is her father, Hermione?" Her father asked.

"My husband," she answered, her voice small. "My other husband."

" _Who?_ " Her mother pressed.

"Severus Snape," she whispered.

"You former Professor?!" Her mother gasped. "I don't- why would you - were you seeing him while you were still at Hogwarts?!"

"No!" Hermione shouted. "No, there was nothing between us until after the war."

She peeked up at her parents, whose faces were a mix of anger and disbelief.

Hermione bit her lip before speaking again. "And…"

" _And?_ " her father spoke again, his voice dark and angry. "There's more?!"

Hermione swallowed, nodding. "I…I'm married to Harry, as well. I actually…" she swallowed again, feeling her throat constricting around her words as she tried to speak. "I actually have eight husbands in total."

This time, the silence was awful, as awful as it had been when Carina's father true father had been revealed.

"After the war, there was a plague. And awful plague that badly affected the Wizarding community, to the point where the vast majority of women were wiped out," the words began spilling from her like a torrent as she desperately tried to quell the horrified emotions she saw reflected in her parents' eyes. "We…we were desperate, and we came up with every measure we could think of to repopulate or risk our extinction. And I…I couldn't abandon the Wizarding World, not after how hard I've fought for the place of Muggleborns. We…we found a way to make it work, but it was at a great cost. We had to bind the magical cores of the remaining witches to suitable wizards in order for the accelerated pregnancies to work." She looked at her parents when she finished, both of whose faces were flushed with rage.

"Please don't be angry," she whispered. "I'm not - it's not as bad as you think. I married mainly to have children, yes, but I'm happy. I'm married to both Harry and Draco, either of whom I would have married anyway. And Neville, he's incredibly loving and kind, and I fall for him more and more each day. Sirius is devoted to me, and I to him. And Kingsley-"

Her mother gasped at the name, and Hermione nodded shamefully. "Kingsley is my husband as well, yes. This apartment…it is as much mine as it is his, I suppose."

Her parents were still silent. Her father's expression was still hard and angry, while her mother had buried her face in her hands.

"Please say something," Hermione pleaded, worrying at her lip as she looked between them. Still, they said nothing, and the room descended into an awful silence once more.

Her mother sighed, running her hands through her hair. "I want to speak with them," she said finally.

"Alright," Hermione answered. "I…I'll owl you tomorrow after I-"

"No," her father interjected. "We need to speak with them. _All_ of them - now."

 **X**

It was late, but not late enough for her to use the excuse of her husbands being fast asleep and them needing to postpone the meeting until the next day. She looked over at where her father sat, noting the hard set of his features and realizing that had she presented the excuse, he would have likely awoken them all himself.

Harry and Draco were sitting on a settee, shooting her concerned looks from across the room. Sirius was leaning against the wall, looking casual as ever despite the small frown on his face as he continued to look between her and her parents. Severus and Lucius were sitting in high backed chairs, their faces unreadable masks as per usual. Kingsley was sitting in a chair on the other side of her parents, looking collected although she could see the concerned wrinkle in his brow. Only Arthur was missing, and he was due to return from work at any moment. She was sitting beside Neville while her parents were on the love seat next to theirs, and she held her husband's hand in a death grip as he tried to rub her back soothingly.

It did not stop the tremble in her body, and she bit her lip to keep her teeth from chattering in nervousness. The silence in the room was awful, and her father's eyes had not moved from Lucius since he had entered the room. The man was too proud to look away uncomfortably as many of her other husbands had done under her mother's scrutinizing gaze, and instead met her fathers look with a blank expression on his face.

"Mum, dad, I would like to formally introduce you to my husbands," she said softly. "You've, erm, already met Severus and Lucius, and you know Harry and Draco…" She peeked over at her parents after scanning the room, both of whom still wore unreadable expressions.

She waited for a moment longer, and when it was clear that they still had nothing to say, she continued. "This is Neville," she said, raising their joined hands. "We were friends, back at Hogwarts, as I'm sure you remember from my letters," she explained.

"It's very nice to meet you," Neville said kindly. Her mother gave him a tight smile while her father remained stoic.

"Were you _friends_ with your professor here back at Hogwarts as well?" her father snapped suddenly.

Severus tensed his jaw angrily. "I can assure you that nothing untoward has ever occurred between myself and one of my students," he answered carefully.

"Father," she pleaded quietly. "Please try to understand –"

"Understand?!" He thundered. " _Understand_? My daughter is married to eight men and you're asking me to–" he paused, looking around the room. "You said there were eight, yet I see only seven here."

"What else are you hiding, Hermione?" her mother asked, sighing.

"She's not hiding anything, not anymore," Harry offered flatly, a set to his jaw as though he was trying to hold himself back from jumping more fiercely to her defense.

"I'm not hiding anything, I promise, he's just running a little la-" she cut off as they heard the familiar crack of Apparition, followed by footsteps. Her heart began thundering in her chest as her final husband's footsteps drew closer, knowing that the blow of this final revelation would hit her parents the hardest of all.

Hermione bit her lip and looked at her parents helplessly before turning to the open doorway as Arthur finally appeared, looking flushed.

"Good evening," he said giving her parents a small smile.

An awful silence descended once again. Hermione took in her parents' horrified looks of recognition and the guilty look on Arthur's face as they faced each other for the first time in years outside of Kings Cross, where they had so often met to see off their children to Hogwarts.

"Oh my god," her mother breathed.

Her father's face was still a mask of shock, and he hadn't yet moved since Arthur had walked into the room.

"But… Molly…" her mother asked, her face a mask of confusion.

Hermione looked down at where her and Neville's hands were joined as she could no longer bear to watch the scene between her parents and the man that she had once looked up to as a father figure unfold.

"Previous marriages were dissolved in anticipation of the marriage law," Kingsley explained, and Hermione was instantly grateful to hear the soothing baritone of his voice. "The situation was dire, and we had few options-"

"And so it was you that decided on this arrangement?" her father snapped.

"No, sir, it was not entirely my decision-"

" _Entirely_?!" her father sputtered.

"I helped the committee come up with this solution as well," Hermione spoke, her voice still small.

Her mother gasped at her revelation. "You _what_?"

She took a deep breath, willing her racing heartbeat to slow as she tried to calm her nerves. At one point, she had thought that once all of her lies had been exposed, she would be able to start feeling normal and liberated of the stress of the situation. Instead, she felt as though the weight of it all had doubled, weighing down on her chest so heavily that it felt difficult to breathe.

Neville caught on to her distress, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into him.

"It was necessary," she answered.

"Necessary?!" her father thundered. "You've elected to become a broodmare!"

"We are all doing our best to give Hermione the life she deserves," Neville said, squeezing her hand.

"What she deserves is to marry the one man she loves, not eight men that she was _assigned_ at the age of nineteen!"

"Hermione is mature well beyond her years," Sirius interjected.

"And you think that said maturity entitles a man twice her age to take her as his wife?!" her father shot back accusingly, looking Sirius up and down with his features twisted in disgust.

"Dad!" Hermione pleaded.

"You love only Draco," her mother started. "Yet you have been forced to marry all eight of the men in this room." Hermione looked up and caught the sad look in her mother's eyes as the woman seemed to be deducing the tragic circumstances of her daughter's life.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't love _only_ Draco," she said quietly. "I am very much in love with Harry, too, and—" she caught the pained look in her mother's eyes. "I have affection for all of them, mum, I swear," she promised. She let her mother search her eyes until the woman could see the truth reflected there.

"Affection?" Her father spat, finally unfreezing from his daze. "You lied to us about the fact that you have been forced to breed by the barbaric Wizarding government, and you dare lie again about the fact that you have _affection_ for all of these men?!" His face was flushed red as he shouted, his shoulders heaving.

"She's not lying, Michael," her mother said. "I can see it in her eyes. I don't know much about our daughter anymore, but this at least I can attest to."

Her mother's words at once soothed and pained Hermione's heart, and she choked back a sob. "I'm sorry for lying, I am so sorry for it all. At first, I couldn't share all of it because you were still recovering, and then I just didn't know how to handle all of this and explain it to you," she said.

"One day, you're 16, still in school, and I'm looking forward to the bright future you have ahead. The next, you're a wife and a mother. You have eight husbands and two children, the fathers of whom are your former Professor and current father-in-law, respectively. I don't know how to deal with this," her mother said, running an anxious hand through her hair. Her father continued to stew in angry silence following her mother's words, and Hermione longed to see his familiar loving smile once more, wishing desperately that he would fold her into his arms and tell her things were going to be alright.

Hermione looked around at her husbands before turning to her parents once again. "I know that this is all difficult, but please know that I am happy– _truly happy_ ," she said. "I will give you as much time as you need to acclimatize yourselves to the situation."

A silence descended upon the room once more, and Hermione looked around at her husbands, who were all surprisingly looking back at her. She gave them all soft nods, still gripping Neville's hand anxiously as she waited for her parents to speak again.

"You did always have a penchant for older men," her mother noted absently.

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she heard a guffaw from across the room that sounded distinctly like Harry. She even felt Neville shaking softly as he held in his own laughter.

"Mum!" she exclaimed, face flaming. She peeked up quickly, in time to see most of her older husbands giving her curious looks, while Sirius smirked openly.

"How long do you have to stay in this marriage for?" her father asked.

Hermione blinked at him in surprise. "I–it's forever," she explained.

"You can't ever divorce them?" he pressed.

"No!" she answered, aghast. "And I don't want to, in any case."

Her father sighed. "So this is how you will live, then? For the next eighty-odd years of your precious life that you have left, you will let yourself be bound like this?"

"Gladly," Hermione nodded, omitting the fact that even her oldest husband had an expected life span of another _hundred_ -odd years.

It was silent again for a long beat before her mother spoke again. "I cannot say that I will ever be comfortable with this arrangement, but you are my daughter and I will love you and my grandchildren all the same."

Her father stood abruptly, storming across the room and disappearing through the doorway. A moment later, they heard the familiar rush of the floo activating, followed by silence.

"He just needs time," her mother said finally as she stood. She looked around the room, acknowledging each of Hermione's husbands. "I look forward to getting to knowing every one of you in the future," she said quietly before exiting herself.

Hermione followed her to the floo, silent until her mother's hand was full of floo powder. "Mum," she said, grabbing her arm before she could raise. "Will you- please don't leave me," she whispered.

Her mother smoothed a loving hand over her cheek, and Hermione let her eyes flutter shut into her mother's touch. "I would never. We would never," she said. "We just need some time, is all."

Hermione nodded and watched her go through the floo, her heart still heavy for a long time afterward despite her mother's reassuring words.

* * *

 **Can't wait to hear your thoughts.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Thank you to my beta, RESimon - you deserve all the kudos. Another thank you goes to every one of you for all the love you all leave on every chapter - it means the world to me!**

 **Also, I am happy to announce that this fic is now being translated into Spanish by the lovely IBlaidd28 on Wattpad! Please go show them some love.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO**

Hermione was sitting in the Manor's gardens, enjoying the sunshine that warmed her exposed skin. She wore shorts and a tank top, and she could feel her already bronzed skin darkening more each day as the summer months settled in. A peacock clucked softly nearby, and Hermione rolled her eyes as the theatrical display the bird made. The Malfoys were nothing if not ostentatious.

Emma and Carina were both napping at the same time, giving Hermione - and Pinky - a few hours' rest. Carina's lingering pains from her rapid growth in the womb had lasted longer than Emma's, and in the week and a half since she'd been born, she had only stopped her near-constant wailing for the past two days. It had been a distressing time for Hermione, and she had spent many nights sitting up and cradling her newborn in her arms, wishing that there was something she could do to ease her child's pain. Lucius had oftentimes entered her room or Carina's nursery without a word, taking the infant in his arms and rocking her gently. While her wailing did not quite quell, Hermione swore that the child's cries lessened in pitch every time her father took her into his arms. They exchanged few words, yet Hermione felt a new level of closeness with her oft-cold husband.

She heard footsteps approaching, and looked up with a smile to see Harry walking up to her, the sunshine gleaming brightly off of his ever-tousled dark hair.

"Happy birthday," she said, giving him a sweet kiss as he sat down beside her.

He gave her a small smile, tilting his head back as he enjoyed the sunshine. She admired his handsome features quietly, reaching out and tracing her fingers down his chiseled jaw before sweeping them across his full lips. He kissed her fingertips as they passed, and she giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"You're my best friend," she said, smiling at him.

He sat up, sighing. "And you're mine, 'Mione," he said, giving her a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

She frowned slightly, sitting up straighter as she took in his expression. "Is something the matter?"

He reached over and took her hand. "Nothing's the matter," he said. "I'm just happy to be here with you, is all."

Her frown deepened. "That's not all," she said knowingly. "Talk to me, we are best friends —"

"Is that all we are?" he interrupted suddenly, looking at her with a sad expression.

Hermione blinked. "No, I mean you are my husband, after all," she said, perplexed.

"Then why does it only feel like I'm only your best friend sometimes?"

"Wha–what?"

Harry sighed. "Sometimes, I dunno, it just feels like when I see you with Malfoy, there is so much pure romantic love between you, and between us…" he hesitated. "Between us, it just feels like things haven't really changed since Hogwarts sometimes, even though they have."

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, cupping his cheeks. "We are so much more than just best friends," she said, touching her for head to his.

Harry closed his eyes and nodded, accepting her quick kiss.

"It just feels like…" he said when they pulled back, "sometimes, as irrational as it may be, it feels like you have a favorite, and it hurts. It feels like you can get so singularly focused that I fall into the background."

Her heart twisted in her chest as she realized how truthful his words were. She had taken to going on regular dates with as many of her husbands as she could, but during her pregnancy, she had spent nearly every waking moment with Draco, especially during her bed rest. Even after she had given birth, Harry had been her rock as always through the ongoing tension she had with her parents, saying nothing even when she had lamented to him many times when Draco had gone missing, not even thinking about how it must've made him feel to hear her repeat her unwavering love for her other husband who had once been his enemy.

Even now, she could see the insecurity swirling in his eyes as he looked back at her, baring his feelings to her. Yes, she had made many efforts to spend time with all of her husbands since they had married, but there was still more – there was always more —that she could do to show them her affection and appreciation. She knew that she had the tendency to become so singularly focused at times that she lost sight of her other duties. Yes, she was a mother, but she was also a wife, too.

"Harry," she started, "I never meant to make you feel like this," she said, her voice laced with regret. "I've just gotten so overwhelmed that it has been to get comfortable and let other things fall to the wayside." Even her celebration with him for his birthday felt like it was falling short, especially with her having celebrated with Neville for his own birthday the day before between caring for Carina and Emma.

"I'm not blaming you, 'Mione," he said, "I just—"

"— need me, the way I need you," she said, thinking of all he had done throughout their marriage from retrieving her parents to being her constant emotional support.

"I'm canceling dinner tonight," she said. "I'll meet you in your rooms at half seven. There is something else we're going to do to celebrate instead."

 **X**

They apparated into the entryway of a large, luxurious flat, and Harry looked around, perplexed at his surroundings. He took in the rose petals scattered in a long, winding path that disappeared down the small hallway and into the next room to the floating candles that hung in the air all around them with raised eyebrows. She smiled encouragingly, raising her hands in a sweeping gesture at their surroundings.

"You did this… for me?" he asked, his eyes wide in amazement. He turned back to look at her with his mouth dropped open in a slight 'o', his eyes once again scanning her short, tight black satin dress for what must have been the dozenth time that evening.

She took his hand, pulling him in for a kiss. "Happy birthday, Harry," she whispered when she pulled back, taking his hand and gently pulling him along the path of rose petals. The hall ended in an archway that opened into the rest of the upscale flat. The far wall was made completely of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the moonlit ocean that crashed in the distance.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, struck by the beauty of their view. "You didn't–?"

Hermione giggled, shaking her head. "We're in Brighton," she explained. "Perfectly legal, for all intents and purposes."

Harry smiled, turning back to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You are incredible," he murmured as he kissed her.

"No, _you_ are," she said, twisting in his arms until she could sling her arms around his neck.

While they kissed, she flicked her wand over his shoulder, and when they pulled back she smiled as she saw his eyes widen at the display. All around the room hung enlarged pictures of them from throughout the past nine years of their friendship. She had arranged them in order from oldest to the most recent, and she watched as he circled around the walls, gazing at all of the pictures of them smiling together over the years. He lingered longest at their wedding photo.

"That one's my favourite, too," she said as she walked up beside him. She was glowing with happiness in her wedding dress, and he looked down upon her as if she were an ethereal being indeed. The photo had captured them looking deeply into each other's eyes before exchanging a gentle kiss during the ceremony, after which they exchanged beaming smiles. They looked deeply in love, and the photograph had graced the covers of papers across the nation for weeks as they'd celebrated the first official union under the Marriage Law.

Harry looked around the room again, still awestruck. "Where did you get all of these?" he asked.

"I found a few in my trunk, and Ron donated some," she smiled. "Dennis actually owled me some after the war, but with everything going on, it took me a while to sort through it all. But now..." she said, smiling at their surroundings. "Now they'll hang here."

"This is amazing, Hermione," he said, moving through the apartment. She followed behind him, smiling as he paused at the elaborate display of steaming foods in the dining room.

"All of your favorites, of course," she smiled, walking up and wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"Wow, 'Mione," he said. "Just…wow." Before he could reach for it, she pulled out a chair for him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Tonight is all about you," she explained, pulling out her own chair.

They dined in happy silence for a while before he spoke. "We're in Brighton, yes," he mused. "But this clearly isn't a hotel. Is it Neville's? The Malfoys'?"

Hermione shook her head with a smile. "It's actually ours," she explained. " _Just_ ours. I thought that we needed our own space to be able to be husband and wife away from the rest of the family. It's amazing how quickly paperwork and transactions can be completed with a few well-placed spells," she added.

"Hermione…" Harry breathed, looking around the apartment again. "This is…"

"My mum and I had a talk once, and she told me one of the hardest things about marriage is remembering that your spouse needs love and affection, too. It seems like a simple concept, but it is so easy to get wrapped up in your children and the other ups and downs of life that your spouse can often fall behind when they shouldn't," she paused, placing her hand over where his lay on the table. "This place is about us - only us. You are my husband, and I am thoroughly dedicated to you, Harry," she said. "I love you," she added, searching his eyes meaningfully.

"I love you, too," Harry said, communicating the intensity of his feelings with his gaze.

They went back to eating, and Hermione found herself stealing peeks at the serenity on Harry's face, basking in her love for him.

"Are you finished?" she asked eventually, and he nodded, standing.

She flicked her wand and a slow muggle song began playing from speakers in the far corner of the room. She pulled him close and they began to sway together to the music. She let herself get lost in her husband's embrace, melting into the moment with him. Harry was her best friend, her rock, her confidante, and now her husband. Her heart swelled with joy and love, and she pulled him closer still as she felt him pressing gentle kisses into her hair.

Even when the music finally stopped, they continued to stand there, holding each other tightly. Eventually, Hermione pulled away, taking Harry's hand and leading him back to the main room and to the wall lined with floor to ceiling windows. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into him.

"This is the greatest birthday I have ever had," he said, kissing her bare shoulder. "I got to spend it in this incredible apartment with my stunning wife, and I've never felt more loved," he whispered, placing gentle kisses down her neck and shoulder. She smiled, lacing her fingers with his where they rested around her waist. Harry began guiding their joined hands down to press against her clothed mound. She bit back a moan at the contact, automatically pressing his hand down harder.

"Mm," Harry chuckled into her ear. "Is there something you want, Mrs. Potter?"

"You," she said, pressing back into him.

His hand inched up her dress slowly, and she bit her lip in anticipation. His knuckles brushed her skin gently with his movements, leaving her skin heated in its wake.

He continued to inch up her dress past her mound, pulling it up until the skimpy material was bunched above her navel and revealing her completely bare lower half. His fingers ghosted around her skin, tracing delicate touches around her navel and drifting down her stomach until they were just barely teasing through the topmost of her nether curls.

"Harry," she breathed, undulating as she tried to urge his fingers lower.

"Yes?" he said, still nipping at her neck. His voice was a low, sensual whisper, and it made her toes curl in anticipation. A finger descended into her curls then, teasing across her clit.

"Oh!" she gasped as two lubricated fingers suddenly plunged into her pussy, which was already wet.

Harry chuckled again, and she felt the reverberations from where he was pressed against her back travel straight to her pussy. "More, then?" he asked, and as he spoke the words she felt his length sliding between her legs.

Before she could moan out a response, he shoved into her in one hard thrust, pressing her up against the window. One of his hands grasped her hip, while the other moved to pull down the front of her dress, exposing her breasts. He pressed them forward until she was against the window, her cheek and breasts alike pressed against the glass.

There were a few couples walking the down the beach across the way, and she wondered if they looked up if they would be able to see her getting fucked roughly into the glass. She couldn't recall if the windows were mirrored on the outside or not, and at that moment decided that she didn't care, not when Harry's cock was impaling her at such a delicious angle that she could feel her orgasm building with every stroke. She moaned loudly and he sped up, drawing her closer and closer to orgasm until she found herself crying out, her heated breaths fogging the glass before her.

Harry pulled out then and spun her around, pressing her back into the glass and lifting her until she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He shoved his cock back into her, using one hand to support her while the other palmed her breast. Their eyes met as he started to thrust, the intensity of their locked gazes communicating the depth of the love and affection there was between them.

"I love you," Hermione gasped before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss.

He groaned into the kiss as he came inside of her, and she smiled into it in return. They remained in the same position for a long while, panting out mingled breaths as his cock softened inside her.

Eventually, he lowered her gently to the ground, her feet wobbled and he grabbed her by the waist, steadying her. She blushed as he smirked at her, the color deepening when she saw his eyes sweep over her figure.

"You look perfect like this," he murmured, gently palming a breast and swiping a thumb over her nipple. She gasped at the sensation. She moaned in answer as he continued to cup her intimately and he picked her up easily and began walking forward until she felt her back hit an object. She looked back briefly to see that it was a table before he bent her back over it and hitched her legs around his waist. His fingers dipped into her then, and he began pumping into her steadily until she cried out another orgasm, clamping her walls around his fingers as she shuddered.

"Oh…" she moaned, when he dragged his already half-hard cock across her still-sensitive lips.

"I thought it fitting that we christen every room in this flat," Harry said as he leaned down to place gentle kisses along her abdomen. "Twice," he added with a smirk before sliding his cock into her pussy once again.

"Harry!" she moaned as he fucked her steadily on the tabletop.

He continued to grunt above her with every thrust, and she reached down a hand to feel where his length pistoned in and out of her. She bit her lip in pleasure before raising up her hand to rub furiously at her clit and soon began gasping out incoherent noises as her orgasm barreled forward and crashed over her, bathing her in ecstasy.

By the time she blinked her eyes open again, Harry was panting over her in the aftershocks of his release. She pulled him into her, giggling, and he soon joined her laughter. The two of them stayed there together for a long while, feeling blissfully happy and sated.

He eventually picked her up and brought her into the bedroom, smiling at the sight of the bed adorned with petals and the plethora of candles that floated in the air around them.

"You do nothing halfway, do you?" Harry asked as he settled her down onto the bed.

"Never," she smiled. "Especially not when it comes to you."

The look he gave her then was so deep and sincere that she felt tears springing to her eyes at it. The love he had for her was so deep, so pure that she felt nearly overwhelmed by it, and could do nothing but pull him into a long kiss, hoping it communicated the love she felt filled to bursting with. "I love you, Harry James Potter," she whispered when she pulled back.

"And I love you, Hermione Jean Potter," he whispered back before covering her body with his once more.

* * *

 **Reviews mean the world to me.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Thank you to RESimon for beta-ing. Also, thank you to all of you for the kind words you leave on every chapter - they truly keep me going. I always try to respond to random ones when I get a moment if I don't get to all of you, but please know my love and appreciation extends to each and every one of you. Thank you!**

 **Also, as another small note - I've noticed that random words sometimes disappear once I post my final document into ffn's doc manager from my computer. Please bear with me on that - I try to catch all of them, but some do slip through the cracks and I apologize for the interruptions in your reading experiences in both past and future chapters.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE**

Hermione stepped out of the floo at Andromeda's house, dusting off her clothes and stepping aside just as her husband stepped through behind her. He held Emma in his arms, and the infant giggled as he tickled her while he discreetly dusted off her clothes.

"Welcome!" Andromeda stepped into the room, gently dusting flour off of her robes. "I was hoping to have the cookies in the oven before you arrived, but I appear to have lost track of time," the woman said, smiling at them.

"It's no bother," Hermione smiled, crossing over to pull her into a hug. "It's so good to see you."

Andromeda smiled back, taking Hermione's hand and squeezing it. "It's good to see you, too," she said. "And is that baby Emma I see?" she cooed, moving over to where Sirius held Emma.

Emma's eyes lit up as Andromeda approached, and she immediately started squirming in Sirius' arms as she reached out toward Andromeda.

Sirius scowled. "No love from either of you, then?" he pouted.

"Oh, hush," Andromeda rolled her eyes. "You're here entirely too much, anyway," she said, taking Emma from his arms. Emma nuzzled into her immediately, and Hermione's heart softened at the scene. "And how's the little one?"

"Her pain has started to go away, and she's napping now, thankfully," Hermione answered.

Just then, there was a blur of blue and Hermione staggered a bit as Teddy threw himself at her, wrapping his tiny body around her leg.

Hermione laughed at the child's antics and bent down to pick him up. "Hullo, Teddy!" she said, raining kisses all over his face and making him giggle. When she pulled back, Teddy scrunched his face in concentration until his hair lengthened and turned into a brown mess of curls, not unlike Hermione's own hair.

"Wow!" she exclaimed to the toddler's delight. He smiled back, then made his nose grow long until she tapped it with her finger. "Boop!" she laughed as he let out more peals of delighted laughter, lengthening his nose until she repeated the action.

"No love from this one, either, huh?" Sirius said from beside her, frowning down at Teddy. "Traitor," he said, tickling at Teddy's foot until he squealed.

"Pad!" Teddy said, reaching out for Sirius. Sirius beamed at that and took the child from Hermione, lifting him into the air and spinning him in circles. Hermione watched them quietly for a long while, smiling softly at the scene. Her heart warmed at the sight, and she pressed a hand over her stomach, suddenly yearning to carry Sirius' child despite the fact that she'd only just given birth to Carina a few weeks prior.

"Hermione?" Andromeda called from the kitchen. "Would you like to help us?"

"Coming!" she answered. Hermione gave Teddy and Sirius a last look before going to the kitchen, where she found Emma sitting in a small pile of flour on the counter, alternating between making clouds of white dust and pawing at the dough Andromeda kneaded beside her.

Hermione laughed at the scene, the warmth she'd felt in her heart earlier growing stronger as she watched the quaint and domestic scene before her. "Anything I can help with?" she asked.

"Would you like to cut out the shapes? Dragons are Teddy's favorite," Andromeda asked.

Hermione nodded and began spelling the rolled dough into little dragons. She charmed a couple and let them flap over Emma's head, to the child's delight.

"She's quite the cute one, isn't she?" Andromeda smiled, watching as Emma tried to catch one of the doughy dragons.

"That she is," Hermione smiled. "Thank you for being so good to her."

"Oh, it's my pleasure," Andromeda said. "Teddy looks forward to his playdates with her - and Sirius," she added with a laugh.

Hermione joined her laughter, smiling as she heard Teddy's whoops of joy from the next room over.

"He's deeply in love with you, you know," Andromeda said casually.

Hermione looked up at her, blinking rapidly. "I think that's a bit of an overstatement, I mean we've only-"

"-been married for a year?" Andromeda said with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione laughed at that. "We have been together for quite a while now, I'll admit," she said.

"He's a good man," Andromeda said. "A great man. He deserves peace and love and happiness, and I am eternally grateful that he has been gifted with you as his wife."

"Oh, Andromeda," Hermione said, taking in the emotion that welled up behind the woman's eyes.

"He deserves this," she said, wiping awkwardly at her eyes with the part of her arm that wasn't covered in flour. "He deserves you, and all that you've given him. Ever since…ever since he came back, he was just shrouded in this… emptiness," she said, a faraway look in her eyes. "But now, when I see him look at you, it's as though he's gained back all that he lost in those times of imprisonment and emptiness, and so much more. I thank you for that because he finally has the life he has more than earned," Andromeda said, smiling at Hermione.

Hermione nodded, recalling the time they'd spent living together at Grimmauld. Sirius had been present without truly being _there_ , acting casual and oft giving them smiles that never quite reached his eyes. And his flask…it had always been on his person, and she still felt guilty every time she thought of how it had taken a year for her to notice just how dependent on it he'd grown. Since they'd had an honest conversation about it, she knew that he'd talked to Harry and they'd been sharing the experiences of their traumas, slowly healing together. She let him speak to her when he was feeling open, taking his hand and giving him gentle kisses as he spoke of his fears and recurring nightmares. Over the months, the talks had slowly begun to be replaced by his pulling her into him instead, and talking about their future and what their children would be like. They had slowly been falling for each other, and, in an unexpected yet welcome way, love had blossomed.

"I love him, too," she whispered as she realized the truth of the words, giving Andromeda a watery smile.

"Hermione," Sirius said softly from nearby, and she jumped. She hadn't heard him approach, and she heard Andromeda make a small noise of surprise from beside her as well.

Hermione's eyes locked with Sirius', and she saw the truth of the emotions Andromeda had just noted reflected in their swirling depths. Appreciation. Affection. Love.

Sirius crossed the room in a few short strides, then captured her face in his large hands and drew her into a deep kiss. She melted into his kiss, forgetting everything besides her husband that held her tightly in his arms, and the feel of his lips moving against hers.

She pulled back only when she felt something sticky smack her in the cheek, and she looked around, confused until she spotted a mangled dough dragon on the floor next to her foot. Emma burst into hysterical laughter, laughing so hard that she toppled backward on the countertop, scattering a small cloud of flour around her.

Andromeda scooped up the giggling child, quickly spelling away the mess she'd made of herself. "That's enough baking for today, I think," she said as Emma continued to laugh. "I can watch her for the rest of the afternoon. Why don't you two head home?" she said as she turned to Hermione and Sirius, giving them a knowing smile.

Hermione flushed, while Sirius took her hand, gently tugging her away. "Methinks she might have the right idea," he said, and Hermione laughed, following him back to the floo.

 **X**

Hermione knocked gently at the door to Arthur's rooms, and the man pulled the door open a minute later, smiling as he saw her.

"Hullo, Hermione," he said, leaning down to give her a long kiss. "How are you this evening?" he asked when he pulled back.

Hermione smiled, touching her lips where they still tingled from his kiss as she stepped into his rooms. "I was wondering if you have any plans this evening," she asked.

"You mean besides...?" he asked, chuckling at the way her cheeks pinked in response. "No, I was planning on reading, I think."

"I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date, actually," she asked.

"A date?" His eyebrows rose, and her heart filled with shame as she tried to recall the last time they'd spent time together outside their home. "What's the occasion?"

"Nothing," she said, taking his hand. "I just wanted to spend some time with you," she explained.

"I would love that," he answered, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. "Should I change?" he asked, looking down at his simple plaid button down and trousers that were visible through his open robes.

"You can just take off the robes," she said, smiling as he made to do just that, leaving the door open as he deposited the robes on a chair nearby before returning to her side.

Minutes later they apparated into a quiet alleyway in Muggle London, and she gave him a wide smile as she saw recognition dawn in his eyes when she pulled him toward their destination.

"Oh, wow," he said as they walked up to the ticket booth. It was somewhat quiet for a Friday night, and only a few muggles stood in line for movie tickets. Arthur had an almost eager bounce in his step as they waited, giving the muggles who gave him curious looks wide smiles, which only seemed to mystify them further.

"Any preference?" she asked when they reached the front of the line, smiling at the awe in his eyes as he took in the list of films that were currently playing.

"I honestly have no idea," Arthur said, and she laughed before picking out a random title that sounded vaguely like a romantic comedy.

He bought a variety of items at the concession stand, awestruck at the assortment of items they sold.

"What do you suppose these do?" he asked as he rattled a rainbow-colored box of candies in his ear, guessing at its contents.

Hermione laughed. "In the muggle world, they're just chocolates."

Arthur looked back at the box before nodding. "Interesting," he said, looking at the next box in his hands.

They walked into the theatre, and Arthur paused, blinking at their surroundings. "What a large telly!" he exclaimed, causing the guests they passed as she pulled Arthur up towards the top row to look at him strangely.

Hermione held back her laughter as they reached the top, and she pulled him toward the middle. "It's a good spot to watch from," she explained.

Arthur nodded enthusiastically, and once the film started, he made small noises of awe and occasionally turned to whisper questions to her. It was delightfully endearing, and by the time he'd gone silent as he became completely enraptured by the film, she found herself watching him instead of the couple on the screen.

Arthur was a handsome man, that was without a doubt. She swept her eyes over him appreciatively, taking in his broad yet firm chest, and down further yet…

The theater suddenly filled with soft moans and pants as the couple on the screen were suddenly pictured pulling off each others' clothing as they writhed sensually in bed together. Hermione felt dampness begin to settle between her legs as the scene went on, and she peeked over at Arthur again before making a quick decision.

She snuck out a hand to let her fingers dance across his thigh. He did not notice at first, but as she let her fingers glide higher in firmer strokes, she felt him stiffen under her touch. She peeked up to find him looking down at her, eyes widened in surprise.

"Shh," she whispered, leaning up to nibble gently on his ear before moving to kiss his neck. She looked around them, happy to note that the muggles in the half-full theatre were paying them no mind. They were the only ones seated in the top third of the theater, and the realization made her grin at him naughtily.

She held his gaze as she ran her hand over his crotch and squeezed, earning a shudder in return. She raised an eyebrow in a silent question of if he wanted her to stop or not, and he gave no answer, instead biting back a moan as she pressed more firmly on his crotch. There was a telltale bulge there now, and she started to stroke it gently, entranced by her husband's soft pants as he tried to quell the noises he made. She slowly began undoing the buttons on his trousers then and watched his labored breaths as he watched her back in anticipation.

"Hermione," his voice was caught between a whisper and a groan as she freed his length.

She gave him a wicked grin, looking around once more to see if any of the muggles had caught on to the activity in the back row yet. She knew that she could easily cast a few spells to permanently divert their attention, but the thrill of the moment held her back. She mumbled a quick lubrication charm before curling her slickened fingers around his length, rubbing up and down him slowly and teasingly, relishing in the way he shuddered under her touch.

She tightened her grip, and his cock continued to get thicker and harder under her ministrations until it was hard and throbbing. Its slickness glinted in the low light the film threw off, and she swept her eyes around the theater again as she looked for any wandering eyes before she looked back down at his cock, then up at him. He was looking back at her, his eyes dark with desire as the film continued to play in front of them, now forgotten by both of them.

She lifted her wand then to cast notice-me-not and silencing spells around them before she settled back in her seat and began inching up her dress, watching as Arthur's eyes shot to the skin she exposed, enraptured as she lifted it higher. Her dress was short, and her knickers were soon revealed beneath it. Arthur reached out a hand and cupped her gently, causing her to bite back a moan.

"More," she whispered, then vanished her knickers altogether, revealing her glistening pussy. She moved a hand back to Arthur's cock while he dipped two fingers into her folds, and she let her head roll back as she quivered under the sensation. When he dipped two fingers into her core, she suddenly pulled his fingers out of herself and slid over until she was astride his lap, facing the screen. She ground her pussy against his bare cock, before lifting slightly and doing it again. He took the hint and grasped his cock, gently guiding it into her.

She gasped as she lowered herself onto him, savoring the delicious stretch of her husband's thick cock. His hands moved to her sides, and he began guiding her into a rhythm, raising and descending her slowly upon his lap.

"Arthur," she moaned, falling back until her head was upon his shoulder.

He started to move faster then, and she could soon hear the low clapping of skin against skin as they chased their respective orgasms. Her dress just barely covered their nakedness, but the lewd sounds their bodies made only grew louder as Arthur sped up his movements. Her orgasm descended upon her suddenly, coursing through her after Arthur angled several strokes in quick succession at just the right angle within her.

She lay back bonelessly against him, lost in the aftershocks of her orgasm and the feeling of his continued undulations beneath her. It was not long before she felt the warmth of his release inside of her, and she stayed seated upon his cock even after he'd spilled into her, neither making to move from their connected position.

It was only when the credits began rolling a few minutes later that they sprang up, fixing their clothing quickly and exiting the theatre casually with the muggles around them, exchanging small, satisfied smiles.

 **X**

Morning light filtered through the large window in Hermione and Lucius' main sitting room, bathing them in soft yellow light. Hermione and Lucius were sat on a settee, while Carina slept peacefully in a bassinet next to them. Hermione wore a sleeveless nightgown, and the cooling charm Lucius cast on her arm caused her to shiver slightly. She watched him carefully as he waved his wand in intricate movements over her scar, and she felt goosebumps rising in the wake of the delicate movements of his fingers across her skin.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Yes," she answered, flushing at the probing look he gave her. She tried and failed to quell her body's response to his closeness, and instead settled for taking in his features as he siphoned large swaths of the lingering curse from her skin.

Lucius was undoubtedly gorgeous, this she knew. She had always interpreted it as a cruel beauty, but now as she studied him more closely she saw hints of softness in his features that she would have sworn hadn't been present only months prior. The crinkling at the corners of his eyes deepened in his moments of anger, but also in the soft looks he gave Carina as she held her. His lips were often thinned into a hard, disdainful line when he wasn't speaking in harsh, clipped tones, but she now appreciated the fullness of them. The silky strands of his hair glowed in the morning light, framing his features angelically. His reputation for being harsh and cruel juxtaposed sharply against his appearance, and the thought gave her pause as she suddenly yearned to see more of the softness she'd only caught small glimpses of so far.

"You are staring, Mrs. Malfoy," his silky voice broke the silence. "Is there something you would like to ask me?"

Hermione flushed. "No, I- how do you get your hair so perfect?" she blurted as she tried to cover for her staring.

He looked up at her, and she flushed deeper under his hard gaze, realizing that he was unlikely to answer at all.

"I assigned you an elf for personal use, yet you insist on using her for childcare despite the fact you have dozens of others at your disposal for that very purpose," he clipped as he waved his wand over her scar in one final flourish before gently putting her arm down.

Hermione blinked at him. "You have the elves do your hair?"

Lucius scoffed. "Hardly. You, however, appear to be most unskilled in the art," he said, frowning at her wild mane.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You-" she was interrupted by Carina's telltale fussing noises that she knew would soon turn into cries.

Hermione moved to stand, but before she could, Lucius had already moved and scooped their daughter up in his arms, settling back down beside her. Carina immediately began to quiet, and Hermione gave a soft smile at the scene. She watched them quietly for a few minutes until Carina started to fuss again, squirming against her father's chest.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I just fed her barely an hour ago, so maybe you should, erm...skin-to-skin always does calm her down," she explained.

Lucius nodded, then handed their daughter to her. She watched as he took off his robes and folded them over the arm of the settee before doing the same with his shirt. Hermione could not help watching his defined muscles as he moved, and she realized quite late that he was holding his arms out to her expectantly, an eyebrow raised as he caught her stare.

She flushed, then handed Carina to him, watching as the child seemed to melt under her father's gentle touch. Within moments she was slumbering again, soothed by her father's soft pats on her back. Hermione watched them for a long while, entranced by the picture of serenity they made. Her eyes lingered on where she could see part of Lucius' scar that curved from his back to his torso, and reached out a finger to trace over it before pulling back her hand as she realized what she'd almost done.

"It happened before the war. Long before." Lucius's voice surprised her, and when she looked up she saw him watching her.

"Oh," she answered quietly, her eyes flicking down to his scar and back up to him. "I'm sorry, Lucius," she whispered, looking at Carina's innocence which contrasted sharply against her father, who was scarred and shrouded in mystery.

He gave her a small nod before looking back at Carina.

"I won't press you but…" she hesitated as he fixed her unreadable stormy grey gaze upon her once again. "When you are ready to talk, I'll listen."

He did not move for a long moment before he gave her another small nod and turning back to watch their daughter. The ease with which Lucius calmed the infant would almost have made her jealous if it did not so thoroughly warm her heart to see the love they had for each other. She left them quietly after watching them for a few moments longer, slipping into her room and returning only to take a surreptitious picture before slipping away once again.

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 **Reviews mean the world to me.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Two announcements this chapter: First, I wanted to reassure you all that this fic will no longer be 40 chapters long. At this point, my estimate is around 65, although that is still subject to change. Nonetheless, I will be sure to let you all know when we are nearing the end. Second, I wanted to thank those who voted for me in the Enchanted Awards 2019 - it has been such an amazing honor to have made it to the finals, especially amongst all of the other incredible authors who were nominated. I've been nominated in two categories:** **The Up to No Good Award (Best Work in Progress) for A Contract Most Inconvenient, and the Novel Novice Award (Favorite New Author)!** **I made a post on my tumblr with links to all of the finalists and how to vote here:** ****blankfishxx.**tumblr.**com**/post/184299713781/i-feel-so-incredibly-honored-to-have-made-it-to (please copy paste into your browser and remove all *'s).** **Please do vote for whomever you feel deserves an award and not just me - all voters are welcomed! Kudos to the admins of the Granger Enchanted Survivors group on Facebook for organizing this - you guys are incredible.**

 **As always, thank you to my beta, RESimon - you're wonderful!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR**

Hermione's heels clicked loudly on the floor as she walked past the rows of desks of Kingsley's support staff, giving small smiles and nods to those who looked up at her curiously before their eyes widened in recognition. Even the older witches and wizards whose robes marked them as holding esteemed positions within the Ministry gave her surprised looks, and she knew her cheeks were pink from all the attention. She clutched the closure of her robes tightly even though she'd spelled them shut three times already, ducking her head as she avoided the interested looks from those around her. She sped up her steps until she paused at the large, ornate door marked _Minister for Magic_ and knocked lightly.

"The Minister is away right now. Please do leave a message and it will be delivered to him promptly," a woman's voice spoke. Hermione recognized the voice of Kingsley's secretary, although she'd seen the woman only a few times in passing as she'd delivered documents to Kingsley at the Manor and could not recall her name.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Erm, good afternoon," she spoke, looking around for the source where the voice emitted from. "I'm here to see Kingsl- the Minister," she said.

"Please do leave a message and it will be delivered to him promptly," the voice intoned again, sounding equal parts bored and exasperated.

"I'll wait, then," she said, shifting awkwardly foot to foot.

Kingsley's secretary sighed. "And whom may I ask is speaking?" she clipped. "As I said, the Minister is-" the voice cut off at the same moment that a device that looked like a telescope extended from the door before screeching to a halt in front of her. Its lens was filled by a large, unblinking blue eye.

Hermione shrank back slightly, feeling unnerved by the device's proximity, so close that she felt as though the eye's probing stare could see right through the robes she wore that felt entirely too thin with each moment that passed.

"Mrs. Shacklebolt!" the secretary's voice squeaked through the invisible speaker. The eye retracted as quickly as it had popped out, and Hermione stepped back just as the large door flung open, revealing Kingsley's small, blonde-haired secretary. "I apologize, Mrs. Shacklebolt," the woman said, fluttering profusely as though she knew not whether to shake Hermione's hand or kiss her feet.

"It's quite alright," Hermione gave her as genuine a smile as she could, still itching to step away from the probing eyes in the hall.

The other woman seemed to sense Hermione's discomfort and quickly moved away from the door, ushering her into the large office. "Please do come in!" she said, leading Hermione to a large leather chair. The woman gave Hermione another small smile before moving over to her intercom. "Mrs. Shacklebolt is here to see you, sir," she said.

Hermione smiled at the woman's nervousness, looking around the large, opulent office as she took in its splendor. Her heart filled with pride at all that Kingsley had accomplished, and she beamed as she saw it all displayed in front of her.

"Hermione," Kingsley's deep rumble came from nearby, and she looked up to see Kingsley standing in his office doorway, smiling at her. "What brings you here today?"

"I thought I'd stop by to see you," she said, crossing over to kiss him. "I've never come to visit you here and well...is now a good time?" she asked.

Kingsley nodded, gesturing for her to enter his office. Once the door closed behind her, she leaned up to give him another long kiss, which he accepted happily.

He laughed as they pulled back, searching her eyes. "What is this lovely visit for today, I wonder?" he looked her over before gently pressing a hand to her middle. "Are you already-?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not yet, no," she said, biting her lip nervously. "I brought something for you," she explained. "Do you mind if we close the shades?" she asked, looking around at the towering windows that dominated the room.

"Of course," Kingsley said, looking slightly puzzled but waving his wand to do so before waving it again to light the various candelabras around the room once they were shrouded in darkness while she quickly cast silencing charms on the door and around the room. "What-?"

He stopped short as she pressed a finger to his lips, willing down her nervousness and pressing a hand against his broad chest as she guided him backward until she pushed him down into his chair. He blinked at her several times in surprise until his eyes darkened as she slid her wand down the front of her robes, letting them fall open to reveal what she wore beneath.

She'd spent much time in her lingerie closet until she'd picked out a lacy piece that was nothing but a long "v" that barely covered her breasts. Kingsley's eyes fixed on where the skimpy scraps of lace ended in a heart-shaped cutout that revealed her bare pussy.

Immediately, he reached out a large hand and cupped the newly bare flesh between her legs. "I like it," he murmured, his warm hand rubbing lightly as he cupped her newly shaven pussy.

"I thought you might," she whispered before biting back a moan as he stuck two thick digits into her wetness. Now that there was no hair impeding her line of sight, she groaned at the sight of herself being spread apart. His fingers were thick, impossibly so to the point where when he suddenly added a third finger, she gasped and bucked on them, feeling as though she was being carefully fucked by a thick cock.

"Don't hold back," Kingsley said lowly, his dark eyes trained on her face. "I want to hear you." With that, he increased the tempo of his fingers until the sloshing sounds of his fingers invading her pussy were as loud as the keening moans she made. She cried out as he continued to fuck her thoroughly with his fingers, feeling her orgasm building faster and faster—

He pulled his fingers out of her suddenly, stepping back and sucking her glistening juices off one long digit. She was practically panting with need, and she knew her mouth hung slightly open as she heaved heavy breaths. Her body pulsed with lust, and she snaked a hand down to her clit as she watched Kingsley lick a second finger clean. Before she could make contact with her throbbing clit, however, Kingsley stopped her hand before lifting her easily and depositing her on his desk, sweeping away the papers that lay atop it in one fell swoop. Her open robes billowed out behind her on the desktop, leaving her bare buttocks resting atop it.

Kingsley spread her legs wide, exposing her pussy further as he examined the bare, glistening skin appreciatively. "I like this" — he punctuated the words with a swipe of a finger through her folds, causing her to tremble — "quite a lot," he said before lowering his head between her legs to lap at her pussy.

"Kingsley!" she cried, hooking her legs over his shoulder. He pressed his tongue flat against her folds and licked once, twice, before dipping his tongue into her entrance. "Ooh!"

He laughed his deep, rumbling laugh into her folds and she felt the reverberations of it in her pussy, causing her to gasp and writhe under him. "I'm coming," she gasped, hooking her legs around him tighter as she felt her orgasm building.

Just before she could tumble off the precipice his practiced tongue had brought her to, he pulled back suddenly, smirking as she let out a frustrated moan. "All in due time, love," he said, sliding off his robes and letting them fall onto his chair behind him. She watched hungrily as he slowly undid the buttons of his robes, revealing the defined muscles of his broad chest. He chuckled at the way she stared eagerly, sobering when he started undoing his trousers. His eyes were dark with need when she looked up at them briefly, and she realized what a sight she must have made sitting atop his desk with her legs spread wide, her crotchless lingerie showcasing her throbbing pussy.

She looked back down at where his hands were at his now open trousers, licking her lips as she watched him palm the bulge of his cock through his pants. He pulled them down slowly, enticingly, until his large cock flopped out heavily. She knew that her pussy was now steadily dripping with need, her juices gathering stickily below her on the desktop. Kingsley approached with an almost predatory look on his face, seizing her hips with his large hands as he slid her to the edge of the desk.

"Watch," his voice was a growl, and she immediately looked down to where he held his cock, steadily dragging its swollen head through her folds. She moaned, her mouth dropping open in a gasp as she watched her husband's thick dark cock slowly stretching her wide. He was long, nearly impossibly so, and he dragged out his entry, chuckling lowly at the small gasps and moans she made as he slowly impaled her. When he was fully sheathed inside her, he paused, leaning down to draw her into a bruising kiss. She kissed him back desperately, nibbling at his bottom lip before snaking her tongue into his mouth.

He started to ram into her suddenly, snapping his hips at a brutal pace until she pulled back from their kiss, screaming out her pleasure as she came hard. "Kingsley!" she screamed, her orgasm filling her vision with blinding white light as she finally tumbled off the edge he'd brought her to twice already. She flopped backward as she blacked out briefly from the pleasure, coming to moments later to find herself being held up by Kingsley's large hands as he continued to fuck into her brutally, so hard that she felt his bollocks smacking against her with every snap of his hips.

Her eyes were half-lidded, and she knew she must have made quite the sight with her sweaty hair plastered to her forehead and her mouth hanging slightly open as she panted. She moaned out unintelligible sounds, feeling mindless at the feeling of every inch of his thick cock gliding beautifully into her pussy.

He grunted then, spilling what felt like an endless amount of semen into her until he finally pulled out with a loud pop. He gathered her into a hug, and she fell limply into his arms, smiling into his sweat-slickened skin as he ran gentle hands over her body while he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. After a few minutes of this, he stepped back, giving her one last kiss.

"Are you alright?" he asked, cupping her cheek.

"More than alright," she smiled, sliding off his desk before clearing the mess their mingled juices had made upon it with a whispered spell. She leaned up to kiss him once more, then took her time to fasten her robes again as his eyes darkened at the sight.

When she walked out, she had a distinctive spring in her step, giving wide smiles to those in his support staff that she passed as she left.

 **X**

It was late one evening when Hermione made her way back to her rooms from Neville's, eager to check on Carina. When she stepped into her and Lucius' main sitting room, however, she found both father and child napping peacefully on a chaise lounge.

She made to tiptoe past to her rooms as quietly as possible when she saw Lucius stir, blinking his eyes open to look at her. "You can go back to sleep," she said, nodding at the door to her rooms. "You can leave her in her bassinet when you're ready," she added, knowing that it pained him to part with Carina any sooner than necessary. He gave her a small nod, and she went into her rooms. After she'd showered and dressed for bed, she decided to go back out and peek to see if Carina needed feeding. She made it to where the door that lead from her sitting room to the main sitting room was cracked slightly open before pausing as she heard someone enter the main sitting room.

"Father," Draco's voice was low, but unmistakable.

"Hello, Draco," Lucius responded in his ever-cordial manner.

She heard the sound of shuffling and imagined it was one of them shifting - whether to sit or stand, she knew not. She knew that she should have left then, but could not bring herself to move.

"Carina," Draco said, sounding out the name carefully. "She's beautiful," he added, and she heard a sound of acknowledgment from Lucius.

"Thank you," Lucius' voice was stiff.

There was a sigh then, and it was quiet for a long moment before Draco spoke again. "I don't...I don't know how to handle any of this," he said quietly.

"I understand," Lucius answered.

"But I don't resent her," Draco added.

"I know."

"I resent you." Draco's voice was hard and cold, and she reached for her doorknob as she debated whether to interrupt.

A tense silence stretched between the two men during her moment of indecision, and before she could decide Draco spoke again. "You don't deserve her, not after what you've done." She didn't know if he spoke of Carina or herself, but she knew that Draco could have meant either — or both.

"I know," Lucius' voice was quieter this time, still devoid of emotion.

"When did you start working for the Order?" _When did you start lying to me?_ The true question lingered on the air in the wake of his words.

"Albus Dumbledore contacted me while I was in Azkaban," Lucius replied.

Draco was silent, but Hermione could already picture the tension in his jaw and his clenched fists as his father spoke. Lucius volunteered no more, and all Hermione heard were Carina's soft coos that broke the silence intermittently.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Draco's voice was rough with emotion when he finally spoke.

"I could not."

"You couldn't—?!" Draco's voice rose a fraction before he cut himself off. "You destroyed this family, and you couldn't have mentioned a damn thing about no longer working under the man who ruined our lives?!"

"Draco," Lucius did not raise his voice despite the increasing intensity of Draco's. "We were both Marked by then. We had no means of escape."

"So?!" Draco snapped. "It would have been better if we had known, and you have no excuse for that."

"You are a skilled Occlumens, it is true," Lucius said. "But could you have truly withheld the information under the force of his plundering? I did my best to shield you from his invasions, but I could only do so much."

Draco was silent, yet she could nearly feel the tension radiating off of him through the thick door that stood between them.

"It still doesn't excuse you," Draco's voice was a strangled whisper. "It doesn't excuse anything you've done—"

"I know," Lucius' voice was quiet.

"You don't deserve her, either," Draco said, and Hermione thought of Carina, her sweet baby girl who had been brought into this mess of a family dynamic through no fault of her own. "Do you regret it?"

"Yes," Lucius' voice was quiet but unmistakable.

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath and then immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, fearful that they'd heard her. She knew the way Lucius looked at their daughter though, and there was no way that—

"You tried to kill her once," Hermione could hear the pain in Draco's voice. "You tried to kill her, and over what? Blood purity? And now— now she's your wife, and you've been given everything I strived for so long to have with her after being expressly barred from it by _you_."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock again as she realized that they weren't talking about Carina at all — they were talking about _her_. She recalled the moment she'd asked Lucius if he had regretted the time he'd tried to kill her, and how he'd said no so quickly, so emotionlessly — when had that changed? When had _he_ changed?

"Draco," Lucius said. "I am sorry."

"Are you?" Draco spat bitterly. "She still cries out in her sleep sometimes, and I know it's over what happened to her in this very house. Sometimes, I'll catch her staring at that damned scar with a faraway look in her eyes, and it kills me, it kills me every time because there's nothing that I can do to take away her pain."

Even now, Hermione found her hand automatically closing over her forearm. The curse was nearly completely faded now after only a couple of sessions with Lucius, his expert movements having removed large swaths of the curse at a rate that would have taken at least a half dozen sessions with Corinna.

" _You don't deserve her,_ " Draco repeated.

"I know," Lucius answered again, his voice solemn. For what may have been the first time, Hermione heard a note of pain and loneliness in the usually stoic man's tone. Had that always been there? She wondered if she had been too blind to see it, or if it had been slowly building over the past year of their marriage, festering beneath the surface of his standoffish exterior.

A door slammed then, and she realized that she'd been so occupied in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed when Draco had likely stood up and stormed off. She debated returning to her rooms for a moment before pulling open the door instead.

Lucius still sat on the chaise lounge where he'd been when she'd entered, Carina still in his arms. His blond hair was illuminated softly by the moonlight that showcased the hard yet solemn set of his features. She sat down beside him wordlessly, somehow knowing that he knew she'd heard the entire conversation with Draco. She pulled down a strap of her nightgown and freed a heavy breast, watching him carefully as his eyes roamed her body before settling on her face, a questioning look in his eyes. She nodded toward Carina, and he handed the infant to her. Carina immediately latched on to her mother's breast, and she watched Lucius while he watched their child, her mind filled with a plethora of questions.

"Is that why you've been treating me like this?" she asked softly, thinking of the abrupt way he'd gone from teasing her to taking her from behind. Always stoic — always detached.

Lucius did not move and did not answer either.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I, too, get to decide whether you deserve me or not?" she spoke again. This time, she was met with the satisfaction of him looking up at her, his grey eyes darkened with emotion. "Lucius," she whispered, caught in the swirling depths of what he looked like with his soul laid bare for her like this.

He said nothing still, but did not look away all the same, his eyes equally searching hers.

She leaned forward minutely, her heart beating rapidly as she recalled that the last time they'd kissed had been the brief peck they'd shared on their wedding day. For a moment, she feared that he would pull back, that he would reject her as he so often had over the course of their relationship. She was surprised when she pressed forward again and he did not move until her lips found his. He was unmoving at first until she felt a gentle hand come up to rest on her lower back and he opened his mouth to capture her bottom lip between his. She pressed forward into the kiss, letting out a soft moan. She was mindful of Carina in her arms, barring her from pressing herself against his muscled body as she desired.

As if on cue, Carina pulled back from Hermione's breast and started to wail, forcing her parents to pull apart. She stood quickly, clutching Carina to her chest. "I'll just, uhm," she nodded towards her room.

Lucius was still giving her a deep probing look, and his grey eyes glittering in the moonlight were the last thing she saw before she slipped back into her rooms.

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 **Reviews mean the world to me.**


	35. Chapter 35

**A small announcement: I now have a discord! I got a couple of requests, so I'll try and hop on as much as I can — I'd love to chat with you all! Here's the link (remove all *'s, of course):** h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn. **Also, a warning for this chapter: there is some light BDSM for those that are squicked by it. As always, thank you to my wonderful beta, RESimon.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE**

Emma crawled over to where Carina lay on her back, kicking her arms and legs as she looked around the room, her bright silver eyes scanning all around her. Emma poked curiously at one of Carina's legs, frowning slightly before pulling off the infant's sock and flinging it away.

"Emma Rose!" Hermione's mother admonished, and Emma turned to blink at her grandmother curiously. "Leave your baby sister alone," she chided.

Hermione smiled at the interaction, laughing when Emma seemed to turn away indignantly and crawled off, chasing her charmed caterpillar that slithered around the room.

"I can't believe it's August already. Her first birthday is in a few weeks," Hermione smiled, watching her daughter as she crawled around. "She's getting so big."

"What are you planning?" her mother asked.

"Maybe a small get together with some friends — probably just Hannah, Luna, Parvati, erm, Ron…" she trailed off, cringing.

"And I suppose they'll be bringing along the grandkids, then?" her mother's smile tightened.

"Mum," Hermione said, sighing.

"I know, Hermione," her mother sighed as well. "It's just… a lot," she said.

Hermione bit her lip, looking down. "Do you think he'll come?" her voice was small.

Her mother sighed again. "You know that he wouldn't want to miss Emma's first birthday, but…"

Hermione nodded sadly, thinking of her father. "Has he read any of my letters yet?" she asked, immediately seeing the answer in her mother's features.

"Hermione…"

"Carina's nearly month old, mum," Hermione said hoarsely. "Nearly a month old, and—" she stopped short as her mother cupped her cheek.

"It'll be alright, Hermione," she said. "I promise."

"Will it though?" Hermione's voice was tinged with doubt. "I don't know mum, I—"

Her mother placed a finger over her lips. "I know him. _You_ know him. He will come around, he just needs time. He just wants you to come home."

Hermione let out of frustrated sigh. "I can't just take my children away from their fathers—"

"I know, honey, I know," her mother soothed. "He just doesn't see it, how happy you are now. All he sees is how you've been forced into this, and it's heartbreaking for him. You're his only child, Hermione. You're everything to him — to us. Carina's barely three weeks old, which is how long we've known about this...arrangement," she faltered. "It's a lot, but we love you, we will always love you, no matter what." She pulled Hermione into a hug then, rubbing her back.

Hermione nodded, leaning into the comfort of her mother's touch. She pulled away only when Emma tugged at her grandmother's hand, appearing to want cuddles of her own. Hermione's mother scooped the happy infant up happily. "I love you baby girl," she whispered.

"And she loves you," Hermione said fondly, watching as Emma giggled while her grandmother peppered kisses all over her face.

"So," her mother asked once Emma had crawled away again, casting a curious look at Hermione. "How has this...arrangement served you so far?"

Hermione blinked at her, and her mother nodded to her left hand, where her large diamond glittered in the sunlight that streamed through Emma's windows. "Oh!" Hermione flushed, looking from her ring to her children and back to her mother. "It serves me well, I guess," she said vaguely.

"Just _well_?" her mother asked, raising an eyebrow. "Honestly, Hermione, eight husbands is quite a bit to manage, I can barely keep up with the one!"

"Well, I manage, I suppose," Hermione said awkwardly.

"You _manage_?" her mother said, both eyebrows still high. "Quite frankly, Hermione, as a woman who has been married for twenty-three years, I can assure you that men have needs that—"

"Mum!" Hermione gasped.

Her mother rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Hermione, you have two children — I think we're beyond that," she said matter-of-factly.

She knew that her face was blooming red at this point. "Still, it's a bit—"

"Oh, whatever," her mother shushed her. "It's especially important not to forget your husband's needs after you've had a child. It's easy to get focused on your children, but they can't be forgotten. Do you still _spend time_ with, uh, Severus and Lucius?" her mother's voice faltered a bit as she said their names, wrinkling her nose. "I suppose that'll take some more getting used to."

Hermione groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Mum, I _spend time_ with all of my husbands, I promise," she said, omitting the fact that, until the Ministry gave them further notice, she was required to do so.

Her mother laughed at her expression. "You're a woman now — a wife," she said fondly. "I do suppose that'll take some time for you to get over this timid stage, though."

Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling.

"I did always know about your preferences for older men, so I really shouldn't be surprised," her mother mused. "I remember the first time you came home, raving about Hogwarts and looking all starry-eyed every time you mentioned that one Professor. Potions, wasn't it?" She looked at Hermione expectantly, and Hermione's heart started to race as she realized exactly where this conversation was going.

"I, uh," Hermione stammered. "I don't recall."

"Oh, please child," her mother rolled her eyes. "You talked about him with that same look in your eyes right up until you brought Draco home," she said. "I wonder what he's up to now," she said thoughtfully.

"Right," Hermione swallowed, watching as Emma crawled up to Carina once more, prodding at the infant's cheek, her onyx eyes — that mirrored her father's exactly — riveted on her sister.

"Do you suppose he's bonded with someone? Well, I suppose you have your own set of men fitting to your tastes now though, don't you? Sirius is quite handsome, I must say. And Lucius...well, Lucius is...wow."

"Mum!" Hermione said, face flaming.

Her mother laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "Have you seen him since school?"

Hermione cringed. "I, uh, see him quite a lot, actually…" she started carefully.

Her mother blinked at her. "Oh really? Why so?"

"Well he's, erm, the father of my child," Hermione rushed, biting her lip as she took in her mother's reaction.

" _Severus_ is the Professor you fancied yourself in love with?!" she exclaimed, gaping at her daughter. "Hermione Jean—"

"Nothing happened between us during school, mum!" Hermione said, looking worriedly at Emma who had started at her grandmother's outburst. "And lower your tone, you're scaring Emma," she chided, gathering Emma into her arms.

Just then, a throat cleared, and Hermione, her mother, and Emma looked up to see Severus and Lucius standing in the doorway, their faces unreadable. Hermione's mouth dropped open in horror as she wondered how much they had heard. Before she could stutter out a greeting, however, Emma gave out a small yelp of joy at the sight of her father and squirmed out of Hermione's arms, standing determinedly. Hermione held out her arms, expecting the infant to stumble down into them after swaying on her feet for a few moments. Instead, Hermione's mouth dropped open as Emma scrunched in her face in concentration, then took a shaky step toward her father. And another. And another.

"Emma!" Hermione exclaimed, clapping a hand over her mouth as she felt tears of joy springing to her eyes. She peeked up at Severus, who was frozen where he stood, an expression that exceeded pride written across his features. If he were anyone other than Severus Snape, she might have said he was beaming, but Severus would never allow himself to be caught with such an expression — although she imagined that this was as close as he would get. She knew that even this was an expression he saved solely for their daughter, and she felt full to bursting with joy at the display.

Emma took a fourth step before she stumbled to her knees.

"Congratulations baby girl!" Hermione's mother exclaimed, clapping as she wiped away a tear.

Hermione wiped away a tear that had fallen, watching as Emma gave up on trying to stand again and crawled happily into her father's arms when he approached. Lucius crossed over and scooped up Carina, greeting her mother cordially.

Hermione was glad for the distraction of Emma's first steps had provided, but she knew she would likely have to address what her husband had overheard— and based on the look he was giving her over Emma's head, he had _definitely_ overheard —soon.

"Congratulations," Lucius drawled at this, watching as Emma played with her father's hair.

"Draco didn't walk until he was around fourteen months, if I do recall correctly?" Severus said casually.

Lucius scowled in response, and Hermione giggled as she caught the ghost of another smirk pass over Severus' features. She stopped giggling only when Severus' gaze caught hers, reminding her of the conversation he'd walked in on. Heat immediately pooled in her stomach, and she bit her lip automatically under the heat of his gaze.

"Let's let them have some father-daughter time, shall we?" her mother offered, standing and gesturing toward the door.

Hermione managed to tear her gaze away from Severus' and nodded, standing. As she walked past, she grazed past him much closer than necessary, and she felt one of his hands ghost meaningfully across her thigh and bottom as she passed, making her shiver, his touch leaving future promises that made her skin tingle in its wake. She met his dark gaze meaningfully once more before exiting the room, feeling her body hum with anticipation as she thought of the look he'd given her.

 **X**

After dinner that evening, Hermione made her way down to the dungeons, her feet carrying her to her destination even as her heart fluttered in her chest. She expected to need to knock on the door that lead to his private quarters, and was thus momentarily frozen as she stepped through the threshold of the Severus' lab to find him sitting calmly at the large table that dominated the room, scrawling on a piece of parchment.

"Good evening, Mrs. Snape," he drawled, leveling his dark gaze at her.

"Severus," she said, looking down and where she twisted her hands nervously, knowing that her cheeks were pink under his dark gaze. "How are you?" she looked up at him finally to see him sweeping his dark gaze over her body slowly, and she suddenly felt overexposed in her knee-length summer dress.

"That is not what you came here to ask me, is it?" he asked lowly, standing and approaching her slowly.

"I—I mean, I…" she trailed off as he drew closer, looking down at her. He was now close enough that she felt the heat of his body radiating off of him, and her breasts brushed his robes with every shallow breath she took. His fingers caught her chin then, tilting her head up until she met his gaze. His eyes were swirling dark depths, and she realized that she could plainly read what lay beyond his expression: hunger.

"What did you come here for?" he asked again, his warm breath fanning over her in a gentle caress, causing her to move minutely closer to him.

"You," she breathed, leaning in further, slowly closing the mere inches that lay between their lips. Before she could reach his lips, he ducked his head suddenly to whisper in her ear.

"I won't be gentle," he murmured, and she ran a hand that trembled slightly up his chest, feeling a shiver of arousal pulsating through her.

"I don't need gentle," she said back, and not a second later he snatched her around the waist, pulling her across the room and dropping down onto a stool, where she was draped over his lap. He pulled up her dress, giving her bottom a sharp smack that made her cry out.

"Your word, Mrs. Snape?" he asked, and she shivered as he dragged a teasing finger across her quim.

"I…" her voice was a quiver as she tried to focus through the haze of anticipatory pleasure that pulsed within her. "Red," she whispered.

He gave her a light smack, then rubbed softly. "Any others?" he asked.

"Yellow," she whispered. He paused, and her body sang with anticipation as she waited for his next move.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, then, when he smacked her arse again, so hard that she felt it jiggle in his wake. He tugged up the small scrap of lace until it got caught up in her arse and pussy lips.

"I can smell you," he said, tracing a finger over her pussy lips that had stretched over the lace that was caught between them. She moaned and bucked in his lap, only to be rewarded with another stinging slap to her buttocks. He rubbed soothing circles over it in the wake of his slap, and she pressed back into the comfort of his hand. He teased his fingers down across her pussy lips once again, causing her to shudder.

"Is there something you want?" he chuckled darkly.

"You," she moaned, crying out when he smacked her arse again. She froze then, craning her neck toward the very open doorway. "Wait, Severus," she moaned again as he pressed a finger against her core through the lace of her knickers. "The door," she managed to gasp out.

"What about it?" She could hear the smirk in his voice.

She knew her face was red. "Shouldn't we close it?" she whimpered as he forced her legs apart further before pressing a finger against her clit.

"Why ever for?" he asked, sliding her knickers aside to swipe his fingers more insistently across her clit. "I thought you liked public displays?" he mused. "Libraries...sitting rooms…"

What else had he heard? _Who_ else had heard her _encounter_ with her husbands several months ago? Her face heated at his revelation even as she bit back a moan under his expert ministrations.

"Don't come," he warned before plunging his fingers into her heat.

"Severus!" she moaned, fisting his robes as she cried out.

"I would wager that the whole Manor heard you that night," he mused, still fingering her casually.

She could feel her orgasm building, and she tried to stave it off even as she started to tremble.

"Crying out as you have a cock in every hole," he continued. "Is that what you want?"

She moaned and bucked on his fingers, and he responded by yanking his fingers out of her and smacking her buttocks once again. "Don't come," he warned. "Answer me."

"Yes," she gasped once her brain cleared itself from the haze of pleasure long enough for her to remember what his question had been in the first place.

"Mm," he hummed his approval, then pulled her up abruptly until she was standing upright on shaky legs. She met his dark, hungry gaze through half-lidded eyes as she felt him trace the tip of his wand along her collarbone. She held his gaze as he dragged his wand lower until he began slowly pulling it down the center of her dress, slicing the fabric as he went. It revealed more and more of her bronzed skin as he pulled it lower and lower still, and all the while she did not look away from his eyes, nor he from hers.

Her dress had soon fallen open in the middle, revealing her bare breasts and soaked knickers. He reached up and cupped a breast, kneading it softly before flicking a finger over a dark nipple. Only then did her eyes flutter shut, and she moaned, arching into his touch. He tugged her closer, then pinched a nipple between his fingers before soothing the sting with a quick lap of his tongue.

"Severus!" she cried out, threading her fingers through his hair.

He sucked for a moment longer before unlatching and cocking a brow at her. "I do not recall giving you permission to touch my hair," he said primly before pulling her down until her knees hit the stone floor. "Suck my cock," he ordered, leaning back casually.

He had undone his robes at some point, revealing his dark shirt and trousers beneath. She hesitated for a moment before she reached for the placket of his trousers, ghosting her hand over the hardness she felt there. She made quick work of his buttons, and soon freed his cock, blinking at the intimidating size of it. It was long, thick, and flushed red. It was already leaking a steady stream of clear pre-come. It was at once arousing and intimidating.

She hesitated for a moment, and he grabbed her head, pressing her down further. "Suck," he ordered again.

She swallowed, then flicked her tongue out to lick a stripe up the pulsing vein that ran along the underside of his cock. She had the satisfaction of feeling him shudder under her touch, and trailed kisses along his length until she reached the head and took him into her mouth. She started bobbing her head slowly as she sucked his length, using her hands to stroke where her mouth could not reach. He urged her lower with his hand in her hair and she obeyed as best she could, alternating between sucking and licking across his length.

He shuddered again, and she looked up at him through her lashes before swallowing him as deeply as she could until tears sprang up at the corners of her eyes and she gurgled around his cock, fisting the rest of his length faster. Without warning, he snapped his hips and started fucking up into her mouth roughly, causing her to gurgle around his length. He pulled her off of his cock roughly, and before she could register what was happening, he began shooting thick ropes of cum onto her, coating her breasts before he angled it so that it painted ropes across her face as well.

She snaked a hand down into her knickers, rubbing at her clit as she chased her release. She felt the familiar wave rising within her, and she rubbed faster, feeling it draw closer and closer—

Severus snatched her up then, glaring at her. "I do not believe that I gave you permission to come yet, Mrs. Snape," he said darkly before lifting her bodily and depositing her on the tabletop. He forced her arms above her head, then secured them wordlessly, an invisible force holding them together and pinning them to the tabletop. Her ripped dress fell open around her, revealing her naked form save for the soaked knickers she still wore. She pressed her knees shut instinctively, and he forced them apart, vanishing her knickers.

"Do not attempt to close them again," he ordered, smacking her clit lightly. She cried out, biting her lip at the unexpectedly pleasurable tingle it brought. Severus, too, noticed this, and he looked up at her thoughtfully before wordlessly summoning a piece of rope that hung on the wall and transfiguring it into a riding crop.

He brought it down on her clit without warning. "Ahh!" she cried out, shuddering when he dragged it across her slick pussy before smacking it against her again three more times in rapid succession.

"Do you cry out because of the pain?" he asked, punctuating it with another smack on her clit. "Or the pleasure?" He ran it through her pussy lips again, smirking when she started writhing. His fingers were inside her again suddenly, pumping steadily in her channel.

"Please let me come!" she gasped, yearning to be able to reach down and hold his arm in place until he let her finally tumble over the precipice. Her eyes strayed down to where his long, soft cock hung from his still-parted trousers, his robes having been discarded sometime while she hadn't been paying attention.

He smirked at her before withdrawing his hand once again. "I don't think you're quite ready to come yet," he said, even as she heard the lewd wet sound of his fingers dragging through her juices.

"Please," she gasped. She arched into his as his palm pressed down harder against her swollen mound, yearning for more.

"Please what, Mrs. Snape?" his voice was low and teasing. His cock had begun to harden once more, and was now at half-mast, causing her to lick her lips at the sight.

"Please fuck me," she moaned, spreading her legs as wide as they could go.

"I'm not sure you quite _need_ it," he mused, sliding his hand from her pussy and down her thighs.

She was teeming with frustration, and the groaned, feeling as though she was about to burst. "Please, Severus," she gasped. "Please fuck me, I need your cock, I need it in me, please—"

She stopped short as he gripped her thighs suddenly and dragged her to the end of the table before shoving his cock into her. Her words dissolved into incoherent moans, and she clamped down around him, yearning for him to move.

"Please," she moaned, squirming around his thick — and woefully unmoving — cock.

He pulled out slowly, and she watched him through half-lidded eyes as he watched her expression just as intently, her mouth hanging open as she panted. "Faster," she said, her voice a strangled whisper as she tried to control her shudders.

He paused when the tip of his cock was perched at her entrance, then slammed back in without preamble.

"Severus!" she screamed as he started to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her impossibly. She felt mindless under his pounding, relishing in the feeling of his heavy bollocks slapping against her sensitized skin with every hard thrust.

She no longer cared who could hear, her focus only on the thick cock that continued to impale her at a brutal pace. Her breasts bounced lewdly, almost painfully with the pace of his thrusts, but the pleasure she felt outweighed it, and she yearned for more. Severus reached down a hand and began toying with her swollen clit, causing her screams to grow louder and he fucked her roughly.

"Please let me come!" she begged again, grinding up against his fingers.

"Very well," he said, speeding up his movements. She shuddered and came with a loud cry, feeling a rush of her juices coating his cock that continued to fuck her steadily through her orgasm. She felt as though she were aflame, and the only way to quench the fire was to buck into him, letting him fuck her harder and harder as her orgasm dragged out. Her entire body spasmed, and her eyes rolled back as the waves of her orgasm felt as though they would engulf her entire body, seeming almost endless.

It was not until she blinked her eyes open that she realized had blacked out during her orgasm, and had come to in time to feel Severus start to spill his seed within her before he pulled out suddenly, spilling the rest across her throbbing pussy. They were silent for a long while, the only sounds their mingled harsh breathing as they came down from their respective highs. He waved a hand and the spell that bound her hands come undone, and she let them drop to her sides. She remained lying on the table, feeling the coating of come on her face and body drying slowly as she lay there, while her husband remained braced above her, his head bent and his arms bracketing her.

Eventually, his hand cupped her cheek, and she opened her eyes to look up at him. "Are you alright?" he asked, searching her face.

She nodded. "Yes," she croaked, her throat still aching equally from having swallowed down his cock earlier and the passion with which she had — loudly — voiced her pleasure.

He searched her eyes for a moment longer before nodding, letting his eyes travel down across her body. She flushed under his gaze, somehow feeling more exposed as he took her in, eyes lingering on her come-coated skin. She gasped when he flicked a still-sensitive nipple, biting her lip. His hand slid around to her back, and he pulled her up easily, folding her into his body. It was so intimate, and so unlike him that she froze for a moment before melting into his touch. He pulled back after a long while, looking into her eyes once more. His expression was unreadable, but he did not stop her when she leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss. She did not linger in the kiss but pulled back after a few moments before looking into his eyes again.

She reached out her hand and wordlessly summoned her wand from where it had tumbled to the floor, and Severus stepped back, offering his hand. "Can you stand?" he asked, and she nodded, her feet still feeling somewhat shaky after their rough lovemaking.

She nodded even though her feet still felt shaky. "I'll just, uh," she gestured to her state, and he nodded at her. She gave him one last meaningful look before disapparating back to her rooms.

She landed in the middle of her bedroom and clutched one of the posters of her bed to stop herself from toppling to the ground. She needed only to make it to the bathroom, which had been her original destination, but her muddled brain had made her land slightly off. She needed a good soak, she decided, and—

" _Hermione?_ " Sirius' shocked voice sounded from her open doorway, and her equally shocked eyes looked up to meet his own.

She opened her mouth to speak, to explain away her appearance, but no sound came out. It was probably quite late, and he'd likely come to seek her out, wondering why she hadn't come to his rooms yet.

He whistled lowly, crossing his arms as a small smirk graced his features. "My, my," he drawled, appraising her slowly. "What do we have here?"

She flushed what she imagined was a deep shade of scarlet. "I—" she stammered, trying and failing to come up with an explanation.

"Merlin, Hermione," he said, smirking wider. "You are _quite_ the wife."

She flushed deeper. "I'll just uhm, take a quick bath, if you don't mind," she said, wincing at how hoarse her voice still was. She took a step forward, then winced again as her legs wobbled.

"Need some help?" She heard the smirk in his voice, then turned to see it mirrored in his expression.

She nodded with another blush, then yelped as he suddenly scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom. He slid her ruined dress off of her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground, leaving her naked before him, He opened the door to her shower, gesturing for her to enter, before vanishing his clothes altogether and entering behind her. She immediately felt soothed by the feeling of the warm water beating down onto her skin as she watched him lather up a cloth and begin to gently wipe the come off of her, starting on her face.

He stifled a laugh at her ensuing blush. " _Now_ you're feeling timid?" he asked.

She flushed, looking down. "Perhaps," she said, biting back a moan when he finished with her chest and moved his cloth down to her breasts.

"Still sensitive?" he chuckled, lingering on a nipple for longer than was strictly necessary.

She moaned as he dipped the cloth lower until he ran it across her still sensitive pussy, drawing it gently between her swollen lips. She watched him carefully, noting how his gaze darkened as he drew the cloth lower still, swiping across her entrance. "Sirius," she moaned, pressing closer to him.

She reached down and slowly tugged the cloth from his fingers and let it drop to the ground before capturing his fingers and pressing them to her core once more. He raised a brow in a silent question, asking if she was alright, and she nodded, pressing his fingers more insistently against her core.

He slid them lower, teasing at her entrance, and she bucked up in approval until his fingers slid into her with ease. His cock was hard between his legs, flushed red and pointed toward his stomach. She reached out and grasped it, stroking him firmly and making him shudder.

"Hermione," he gasped, pulling her closer to him.

She smiled, then stepped back, pressing a hand to his chest and urging him backward until she pushed him down onto the long bench in her shower. She straddled him, giving him a long kiss before she grasped his cock and lowered herself onto him.

"Fuck!" he cried as she started to undulate on his cock. He captured her mouth in another desperate kiss that she returned feverishly, still grinding down on his cock. She pulled back as she came quickly, speeding up her movements until he came not long after her.

They stayed connected for a long while, panting together as the shower filled with steam around them. She let out a giggle then, clutching him harder to her, and felt his shoulders start to shake only a moment later as he joined her laughter.

"I love you," she whispered, pulling back to kiss him.

"I love you, too," he murmured, planting gentle kisses across her wet skin before capturing her lips once more.

Eventually, he pulled her up, smiling at her. "Let's get you cleaned up again, shall we?" he laughed, pulling her back under the spray.

* * *

 **Reviews mean the world to me.** **Also, yes, I know I'm not the most creative with my safe words, lol - filched them from a quick Google search although I know some say they're overused at this point, haha.**


	36. Chapter 36

**It slipped my mind to include this in the last chapter, but THANK YOU to all who voted for me in the Enchanted Awards 2019. A Contract Most Inconvenient was a Runner Up for Best WIP! Thank you all so very much for loving this fic as much as I love reading it - it means the world.**

 **As always, thank you to RESimon for being so wonderful to work with. I cherish you so very much for all your work on this fic with me.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX**

Hermione awoke to a sensation of wetness across her face, and she squirmed, squeezing her eyes shut and brushing it away only to feel the wetness return on her hand. She cracked open an eye to see a large black dog perched in front of her, panting happily as it licked her face yet again. Hermione's eyes widened as she scrambled backward, smacking her head against her headboard.

"Ow!" she groaned. There was a smack against her leg then, and Hermione turned to see Emma giving her a toothy grin from where she sat beside her, dressed in a bright pink bathsuit and matching hat. She clutched a pair of pink sunshades in her hand and brought them down to smack them against her mother's arm once more before giggling as the dog jumped over Hermione to lick Emma.

Hermione blinked confusedly at the display for a moment before she heard a stifled giggle across the room and looked up to see Harry standing at the end of her bed with Carina in his arms, his green eyes twinkling with mirth. He was wearing a pair of swim shorts, and Carina was snuggled into his bare chest, also clad in a bathsuit that matched her sister's. She also had a pair of tiny sunshades strapped to her head and a hat to match, looking ever ready for a swim.

"When did we get a dog?" Hermione croaked, watching the dog and Emma roll around on her bed through still bleary eyes.

"Oh, we've always had him," Harry said nonchalantly. "He doubles as your husband, actually," he added with a chuckle.

Hermione blinked, then laughed at the display in front of her, smiling fondly at the way Emma and Sirius played. Crookshanks leaped up onto the bed then, purring softly as he watched the scene in front of him. Hermione reached down to gather him into her arms, petting him softly as she quirked a curious brow at Harry.

"Are we headed to the beach?" she asked, nodding at his and Carina's attire.

"Not quite," he smiled, moving over to kiss her cheek. "We've recently learned that this massive estate also has a quite the impressive swimming hole, so we thought that we would have a family swim day of sorts, I suppose."

Hermione smiled. "That sounds like an excellent idea," she said as slid out of her bed, stretching.

Harry's eyes fixated on her long satin nightgown, and he gave her a low whistle. She rolled her eyes in response, crossing her arms over where her nipples were likely visible through the fabric. "Honestly, Harry," she said. "My nightgown goes down to my ankles!"

"And you've still managed to look absolutely stunning," he smirked, leaning in to give her a kiss. She pulled back quickly, flushing.

"It's cute how you still avoid being affectionate with us in front of each other," Sirius spoke from behind her, startling her. She whipped around to see him sitting calmly on the edge of the bed dressed in a pair of swim trunks, holding Emma as she ran curious fingers over his tattoos.

"Well, it's—" she faltered, "it's just a little uncomfortable, is all!"

At that, both of her husbands laughed.

"Honestly, Hermione," Neville said from where he had approached quietly, "we're all aware that you're married to other people. It's only natural," he chuckled, giving her a knowing look as she blushed at the sight of his muscled chest.

"I don't know, it just feels a little improper—"

"Being affectionate is what makes you feel improper, Granger?" Draco drawled as he emerged from her closet, tossing a small bundle of clothing at her. "I suppose we shouldn't talk about how you shag each of us every night, either, then?"

At that, she flushed deeper.

"Malfoy," Harry wrinkled his nose. "The children—"

"Can't speak now, can they?" Draco rolled his eyes.

Hermione inspected the bundle Draco had tossed at her, her jaw dropping slightly as she realized that the scraps were incredibly skimpy pieces of material that barely qualified as swimwear. "Draco," she deadpanned, "I am _not_ wearing this."

"Why ever not?" Draco asked, blinking innocently.

"It's obscene!" she said, swatting him with the scraps.

"I think you'll look spectacular," Harry offered, before wincing as he was met with an answering swat of his own.

She stepped around Draco and headed toward her closet, intent on finding something more suitable.

"You already know that there's nothing better in there," Draco said as he followed behind her. "I think I made an excellent choice if I do say so myself."

When they reached the closet, she ascended the steps quietly, knowing that Draco was on her heels. She did not speak until she reached the far back corner of the closet, turning to meet Draco's eyes. They were the same stormy grey as usual, and there wasn't a hint of an indication of his feelings in his features, only quiet contemplation as he watched her. His easy-going facade from earlier had dropped, yet she knew not what lay beneath.

"Are you back now, then?" she asked, twirling her fingers nervously and she looked down, fearful of what response she would see in his eyes. Since Carina's birth, he had scarcely been in the Manor, and in the two weeks since she'd resumed relations with her husbands, the night she'd spent with him had been comprised of her clinging desperately to him whilst avoiding the topic of Carina altogether.

"Granger," he said as he captured her hands, bringing them up to his lips where he kissed them gently. "You know that I was never upset with you. Or Carina," he added. "I just needed a little time."

She nodded, still looking down.

"You're my wife, and she's...my sister," he said, and she could still hear the strain in his voice as he spoke the words. "But with him...there is too much between us for things to be easily forgiven, and he knows that, too."

She looked up at him then, her heart breaking at the pained look in his eyes. He cupped her cheek, pulling her in for a gentle kiss. "It's not you," he reminded her. "It will never be because of you. I love you."

"I love you, too, Draco," she said.

He drew her into a long hug then, clutching her to him so closely that she could feel his steady heartbeat. "Let's go enjoy the sun, shall we?" he said, chuckling as she looked down at the small bundle in her hands disdainfully. "I'll go wait with the others — unless you'd like to give me a show…?"

He was met with an answering swat, and she heard his easy laughter as he left, which both annoyed her and warmed her heart.

In the end, she ended up transfiguring the white bikini top into something slightly more modest, although her breasts still spilled out comically. After transfiguring a skirt into a sarong, she went out into her main sitting room where she found them all gathered around one of the sofas. Emma took a few shaky steps toward her mother, grinning even when she tumbled over as Hermione clapped at her progress before scooping her up and planting kisses all over her face.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she padded over to where her husbands were gathered. None of them looked up, and all seemed to be focused on something that lay just beyond her field of vision.

"—no, you see, you have to twist it downwards, or else everything ends up backward," Draco narrated.

"And you have to make sure you use that spell after the one we just taught you, or else she might end up with a rash," Sirius added.

"And you can't forget—" Harry cut off as Hermione nudged him aside, craning her neck as she tried to see what they were doing.

Carina lay on her back on the sofa while Kingsley knelt in front of her, a large hand hovering awkwardly over the infant while he held his wand out with the other, a look of trepidation on his face. Carina's wet nappy had been undone, and she watched the men gathered around her curiously.

"Hermione," Kingsley smiled up at Hermione as she approached, despositing a squirming Emma on the floor. "I'll admit that I'm not the most practiced at this," he said, looking sheepish.

"I told you it was perfect," Draco said, leering at her chest. "Your cauldrons never fail to impress, might I add."

She crossed her arms over her chest, rolling her eyes. "I'll have you know that I am currently nursing and they thus have a mind of their own," she sniffed and was met by low chuckles from the rest of her husbands.

"Right," Harry said. "I think you quite like the attention, admit it—"

Hermione swatted him on the arm before he could continue. "I'll help him, and we can meet you guys outside," she said, shooing them away.

Emma stretched for Sirius as he passed and he scooped her up, giving Hermione a quick kiss as he passed. "You look beautiful," he breathed into her ear, causing her to flush.

She was soon left alone with Kingsley and Carina. Kingsley was still holding his wand over the infant awkwardly, an almost pained look gracing his features. "I'm used to having Arthur or someone else around when I do get to spend time with the children," he said. "I'm still not quite comfortable with the spells, though."

She guided him through the spells carefully, and Carina was soon clad back in her bath suit. Kingsley replaced her hat and sunglasses before he gave a sad sigh, planting a gentle kiss on the infant's forehead.

"Kingsley," Hermione said, cupping his cheek. "Tell me what you're thinking."

He met her eyes then, and she saw the sadness reflected in them. "I…" he reached out and took her hand. "I'm the Minister For Magic. It is my duty to put the needs of the nation above my own, but…"

"You have needs, too," Hermione finished.

"I do," he said. "Sometimes, I'm lucky if I see you twice a week. And you could be expecting our first child any day now, yet I know so little of even the most basic aspects of child-rearing. I've spent so much time working on fixing the balance in our society that I've neglected the balance in my home life."

"I'm not expecting yet, Kingsley," Hermione soothed. "We still have time."

"You could get pregnant soon, though," he added. "And it could be mine. I see how much time Lucius spends with Carina, and I can't help but feel sad for the lack of time I'm afraid I'll have for our own child."

"Oh, Kingsley," Hermione said, leaning in to give him a kiss. "Things are slowing down though, aren't they?"

Kingsley nodded. "Somewhat. We've settled into the Marriage Law quite well, but with the way the War and the plague decimated our society...it feels almost like we're rebuilding from scratch."

"And there are many variables to take into account then, I presume," Hermione said, giving him a sad smile.

"Many," he said. "Many, and they've unfortunately taken me away from you."

"We have time," she reminded him. "So much time and things will change." She pulled him up, smiling at the way he cradled Carina gently despite his large stature. "You're already a natural," she added, nodding at the way Carina has already seemingly melted into her stepfather's chest.

Kingsley laughed his familiar deep, rumbling laugh, and they heard a small answering laugh erupt from Carina. Their wide eyes met, then they burst into laughter again before heading outside to meet the others.

 **X**

They wandered the grounds for a long while, chatting and cooing over Carina before they eventually conceded that they would need to call an elf if they were planning on finding the swimming hole any time soon. Knobby was more than happy to comply, and he apparated them to the edge of the Malfoys' swimming hole. A "swimming hole", which Hermione immediately noted, was actually more akin to a lake. It was massive, and her husbands were scattered about along its sandy bank.

"Arthur!" Hermione called, and the man put down the book that he read as he laid in the grass to greet her with a warm smile. She kneeled down beside him and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I haven't seen you much this week," she said, frowning slightly. "How has work been?"

"It's been busy, but good," he said. "Nothing to worry about. I was absent at breakfast because, well…" he trailed off, giving her a sad smile as she nodded knowingly. Ginny had taken to hosting regular brunches for the ever-expanding Weasley brood, and Hermione's lack of invitation had been thinly veiled. It had taken much persuasion —along with some nudging from Ron and the twins— for her to convince Arthur to attend without her, and she knew that the situation pained him.

She took his hand and rubbed gentle circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. "It's fine, Arthur. I understand — truly," she said, hoping he could hear the sincerity in her voice. He searched her eyes then nodded, squeezing her hand back.

"Arthur," Kingsley said fondly as he approached, still cradling Carina to his chest. "How have you been?"

"Well, thank you. Harry insisted I join, and I thought it would be a splendid idea," Arthur smiled, looking at Carina. "Matching her sister I see?"

"Courtesy of Harry and Draco," Sirius said from where he was lying a few feet away, having appeared to have been asleep until that moment.

Hermione smiled fondly over at where Harry and Draco sat at the edge of where the tall grass turned into a sandy bank, charming the sand into various grand structures while Emma clapped happily. Her men continued to chat amongst themselves, and she felt a familiar warmth growing in her heart as she looked around at her makeshift family and the way then men all doted on her daughters.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Arthur asked, smiling up at her before he wrinkled his brow slightly. "That is the proper phrasing, isn't it?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "It is," she said, her heart swelling with endearment. She hesitated a moment before she leaned down to give him a gentle kiss. When she pulled away, Kingsley and Sirius were looking at her with bemused expressions on their faces.

"Making some progress, I see?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Public displays of affection are quite the normal attraction, I'll have you know—"

" _Your_ public displays are something that the public will never be privy to," she said primly.

Kingsley burst into his booming laugh, and Arthur joined him while Sirius blinked at her innocently. "Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Black?" Sirius said, the ghost of a smirk dancing on his lips.

Even Hermione had to laugh at that, and she leaned down to give him a quick kiss, pulling back quickly as she felt him raise a hand to draw her deeper into the kiss. "And that is all you get," she threw over her shoulder as she strode away. She was making her way over to Harry and Draco when she spied Neville kneeling in the grass a short ways away, the top of his dark head of hair barely peeking over the tall grasses.

She paused, then turned and made her way over to him. "Neville?" she called.

"Come quick!" he said, his voice teeming with excitement.

"What is it?" she leaned down next to him, peeking over his shoulder. She shrieked when she saw what he was holding in his hands. It was a bulbous, snake-like creature, its skin laced with a mix of various hues of green.

"Everything alright?" Someone called from where the others were gathered.

"Fine!" Neville answered quickly. "More than fine!" he laughed, tightening his hands around the creature as it started to thrash harder.

"It's disgusting, Neville," Hermione said, shrinking back.

"Quick, petrify it!" he said.

She was more than happy to comply with this, and the creature was soon frozen in his hands, its miniature slitted amber eyes frozen open. She shivered, turning a questioning glance at her husband. "Was this truly necessary?" she asked, frowning.

"Yes!" he said, laughing. "These are incredibly rare. It's quite amazing how many species the estate is crawling with, really—"

Hermione waved a hand dismissively, unable to hold back a smile at her husband's clear enthusiasm. "I get it," she said. "It's just…"

"Icky?" Neville offered, his eyes dancing with humor.

"For lack of a better word — very much so," Hermione agreed, still giving the creature a hostile look. "Can't you—"

She cut off as she heard loud whoops of joy from back near the water, her mouth dropping open in horror at the scene. Harry and Draco were in the water with Emma, and Hermione gasped as she watched Draco animate the water into a small dragon that rose up like a wave with her daughter astride it.

"Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy!" she bellowed. "Put my daughter down this instant! What are you thinking?! If her father catches you, he will have your—"

As if on cue, there was a quick billow of dark robes that flew across the sand at lightning speed, causing Hermione to pause where she had just stepped onto the sand. "POTTER! MALFOY!" Severus bellowed, putting Hermione's own shouts to shame. "PUT. HER. DOWN." His wand was leveled at the two men, and Harry quickly canceled the enchantment while Draco gathered Emma into his arms, looking at Severus with slightly widened eyes. Severus' back was to her, but she could only imagine the murderous look that was likely gracing his features. She spotted another flash of pink and saw Lucius cradling Carina a few feet away, watching the scene unfold with interest.

She jumped as she felt an arm snake around her waist. "The crisis looks to have been averted," Neville chuckled into her ear. "Would you like to return to the greenhouses with me and avoid...this?" he said, waving generally at the scene that continued to unfold before them.

Draco and Harry had waded out of the water, sheepish looks on their faces as Draco handed Emma to Severus while the man continued to berate them in a low, murderous tone. His words didn't carry far, but she caught the word _imbeciles_ used several times as he continued to unload his tirade on them. Emma, meanwhile, tugged at her father's hair as he spoke, creating a most comical scene.

Hermione stifled a giggle at the fearful looks Draco and Harry exchanged. "Let's," she agreed, turning to sneak back off into the grass with Neville.

 **X**

He apparated them to the greenhouses, and Hermione paused to look around in awe. "Neville," she breathed. "This looks...incredible."

Truthfully, it was. The Malfoys' greenhouses were easily double the size of those at Hogwarts, and Neville had filled them from floor to ceiling with a variety of unique exotic plants. Unlike the neat rows suitable for tutelage at Hogwarts, Neville had transformed these greenhouses into what resembled a mix of forest and jungle at once, an exotic ecosystem that flowed beautifully together. The vegetation flourished all around them, and she followed Neville through the path he had created between the trees, still awestruck. He disappeared into a small gap between some vines, and it opened into a large room that looked more akin to what she'd grown accustomed to at Hogwarts. She spun around the cavernous room, still at a loss for words, while she vaguely registered Neville quickly taking his shrunken creature out of his pocket and placing it into a heated tank.

"Neville," she said again. "I...wow. This is what you've been working on for the past year?"

He beamed at her expression, nodding. "It is," he said. "I think I've found my calling."

Hermione burst into a laugh. "I think I'd say so!"

"You really like it?" he asked again, looking at her shyly.

"It is beyond words, Neville," she said truthfully. She leaned up an gave him a long kiss. "You amaze me," she said when she pulled back.

He gathered her into his arms, kissing the top of her head and holding her for a long while before he pulled back. "I'd like to show you something," he said.

"Of course," she said, letting him pulled her back into his makeshift forest. As they continued to walk through it, she saw subtle shifts in the environment, looking around in wonder as it shifted from forest, rainforest, to jungle, then back again. They walked for several minutes until the trees began to taper off, leading into a garden-like area filled with blooming flowers.

"Gods, Neville," she breathed. The flowers bloomed in an array of vibrant colors, mixed in a rainbow that seemed to exist in perfect harmony despite the mix of colors. She let him continue to tug her along until he stopped at a large tree that draped its wispy leaves in a long canopy dotted with iridescent white flowers. He tugged the canopy aside and they stepped into the shadow of the tree's canopy before she stopped abruptly.

In the middle of the lush green grass grew the single most stunning flower Hermione had ever seen. It was a blood red that seemed to glow with golden fire from within, illuminated by an unseen light. It had large, plush petals that bloomed more vibrantly as she approached, opening up as if it had been parched. It spread all the more beautifully, and as she drew nearer she saw the stunning gradient of light to dark reds that were interwoven with gold. It was beyond mesmerizing. It threw off an intoxicating scent of what she thought was rose, a hint of english pear, and…

"Old parchment," Neville said softly from behind her, and she turned her questioning gaze up at him. "It's the other thing you smell that you can't quite put your finger on. The mix is the same thing I smelled the first time I sniffed amortentia," he explained. "It was you."

It was old parchment indeed, now that she had put her finger on it the three smells melded together beautifully around her, drawing her toward the flower.

"One of the requirements to achieve a Mastery is to design a new species of plant. Most combine two or three to create something new, but I ended up using six, actually. I wanted to create the perfect plant that resembles you as closely as possible," Neville rambled. "The most prominent is the peony, of course, since it's your favorite flower. I also made it as close to a dark red as possible, because of our rings. The gold is because when I look into your eyes long enough, I see little flecks of it, and…" he trailed off. "Hermione? Can you say something? You're making me nervous," he laughed awkwardly. "If you don't like it, if it's too much, you can pretend that you never saw it. Just—say something. Please."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, anything, but she found herself at an abject loss for words once again and resorted to staring wide-eyed at her husband, knowing he could see the tears gathered in her eyes.

"You like it then?" Neville asked, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

She drew him into a long kiss, pouring all the passion she felt into that moment into it, hoping her actions could convey the gratitude and affection that she still found herself at a loss for. "It's the most stunning thing I've ever seen," she breathed when she pulled back.

And when she saw the smile that graced his features at her words, she decided that that, too, was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

"Everyone has their ways of saying it, but this is mine," Neville leaned down until his forehead touched hers. "In case it wasn't clear, this" —he gestured to the glowing flower — "means I love you, Hermione Longbottom. I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you forever."

"Neville," she murmured, running her hands over the planes of his chest.

"I don't want you to say it back," he said, moving to kiss her forehead. "Not yet. Not until you're certain." He ghosted gentle touches across her skin, leaving it heated in his wake. "We have forever," he murmured into her skin. "No need to rush."

She was falling in love with him for certain, faster than she had realized. She had his kindness, his patience, his compassion — his love. Her heart swelled at the fact that the man in front of her was hers, truly hers, and that his brown eyes shone with an adoration that was reserved solely for her. It was true that she couldn't yet form the words, yes, but she could show him her affection and pour it into her every action.

And so she did, pulling him down into a deep, passionate kiss until they tumbled into the soft grass, forgetting all but each other.

* * *

 **Life has gotten incredibly busy of late, but please bear with me — I am doing my best to write as much as I can. Thank you all for being so patient!**

 **As a reminder, for updates on my writing progress, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx) or my Facebook (Blank Fish). I also have a Discord sever that you can join: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn. I love chatting with you all, and hope to interact more with you via any of the above!**


	37. Chapter 37

Hi everyone! It's been a while since my last update, I know. As you all have probably already noticed, the time between updates has steadily gotten longer and longer. I do sincerely apologize for this, as I usually do update once a week, if not multiple times a week. For the past month and a half or so, however, doing so has been difficult. I've had quite a lot going on in my personal life, and that has affected the pace of my writing quite a lot.

Nonetheless, I do want to reassure you guys that I have not and will not be abandoning my fics at all. Instead, for the next few months, I anticipate having a very sporadic update schedule. This means that if I find the time, I might update twice in a week as usual. It also means that I might end up going up to a month without an update, although I truly hope there won't be any delays that are that long. Overall, though, I'm asking you all for your continued patience and understanding— writing is very dear to me and has helped me immensely in times of stress, so I do not plan to let it go anytime soon. I expect to be back to normal in mid-August or so, but it could be sooner. I will be keeping you guys updated along the way though, and I am trying to stay as active as possible on social media to compensate because even if I won't always be able to find the time to sit down and write entire chapters, I will be available those ways. As usual, I'll leave those socials at the end of the chapter.

 **Also, on a happier note:** My beta, RESimon, has posted her first fic! It's a Nevmione titled _**Not But For You**_ , and you can find it in my favorites. Please go show her some love, she's worked so very hard on it. Also, please do follow her on tumblr and show her some love there (resimonfics). As you all know, this fic would be in _quite_ the state without her, so she deserves tons of kudos for all of her hard work.

Finally, there was one last thing I wanted to address. I oftentimes get questions about my fancasts for certain characters, and I wanted to let you all know that I have chosen some and have uploaded pictures on the fancast channel of my discord server. (:

Also, a special shoutout to Cass/Feather on discord this chapter — a comment of hers inspired the opening scene of this chapter, haha.

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN**

"Oh gods!" Hermione shrieked, moving to climb off of Sirius' lap.

His hands held her waist fast, however, and he smirked up at her panicked expression. "What is it, love?"

"There's a man—he's come out to sunbathe, I think, and he's looking straight at us!"

Sirius chuckled and the movement echoed down to his cock, which was buried deep inside her. Sirius had convinced her to come to Grimmauld Place to sunbathe with him, which had quickly turned into his convincing her to ride him on one of the lounge chairs. While Sirius had simply vanished his clothes completely, she had only let him tug the crotch of her denim cutoffs aside, giving him just enough room to slip his cock inside of her. She had been riding him carefully — cautiously — until their muggle neighbor had emerged a minute prior, blissfully unaware of what was occurring on the magically hidden rooftop next door.

"You know that he can't see us," Sirius whispered, nibbling at her ear. "And besides, do you really want to stop?" He punctuated his words with a snap of his hips, thrusting his cock deeper into her.

"I—oh!" she moaned, leaning forward to bite down on the corded muscle of his shoulder. Through half-lidded eyes, she spotted the muggle man amble even closer to them, his pale, rounded belly jiggling as he settled onto his lounge chair.

"We're giving him a show," Sirius mumbled, "and he doesn't even know. Poor sod," he chuckled, the rumble of his laugh once again causing her to clamp her pussy down around him.

The man across from them coughed, squinting right at where Hermione and Sirius sat, causing her to pause and stare back, wide-eyed. But the man's gaze bore right through her, and he coughed again before sliding on his sun shades.

"I can't do this," she said, making to climb off of Sirius once more, her heart still thundering even though she knew there was no possibility that the man had actually seen them. Instead of letting her climb all the way off, however, he pushed her back down onto his cock, causing her to bite back a moan.

She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut although she heard the answering smirk in his voice. "I don't think you really want to," he murmured, "I thought you had a bit of an exhibitionist streak in you?" He snaked a hand up her cropped t-shirt, wandlessly vanishing her brassiere so that he could knead a breast.

Hermione groaned again, partially in pleasure and partially in embarrassment. "The _idea_ of getting caught," she started, her words punctuated by moans as he continued to fuck her steadily, "is an interesting prospect, but being watched by a wrinkly old man is—" she cut off as Sirius started to thrust even harder.

"Ah!" she gasped, then immediately stifled the sound by clapping a hand over her mouth. Truthfully, she and Sirius both knew that he had used no force in coercing her back onto his cock, and that she could have truly climbed off at any time. But despite the way she itched to scurry away from the muggle man tanning only a dozen feet away, she continued to cling to her husband, letting him continue to grind up into her as he chased his release.

And it was in the exact moment grunted loudly in pleasure as his cock pulsed inside her that the door to the rooftop opened, admitting none other than Harry.

"Sirius? I've been searchi—" Harry stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at the scene before them.

Hermione's eyes widened and her face flamed as she immediately buried her head in Sirius' shoulder. Which was bare, of course, as was the rest of his naked body, leaving no doubt as to what they had been up to. As it were, his cock was still firmly lodged within her, pulsing out the final dredges of his orgasm.

Harry stuttered a few unintelligible sounds before she heard the quick shuffling of feet followed by the door slamming. It was silent for a few long moments before Hermione looked up at Sirius, surprised to see his cheeks tinted slightly pink.

" _Harry_ is what it took to make you feel some shame?" she blinked at him.

"Gods," Sirius muttered. "We've scarred him, haven't we? Well, I suppose we're even after your little display last year."

She stifled a laugh before they burst into laughter together, shoulders shaking. She felt his cock start to stir within her at their movements, and took a moment to climb off of him, groaning slightly at the sudden loss of the fullness within her.

"You're gorgeous," Hermione said, looking down at his muscled, bronzed body, from the dark tattoos littered across his chest and arms to his half hard cock that glistened in the sun with the remnants of their combined release.

His handsome features lit up in a smile, and he reached up to pull her down into his arms, kissing her gently. "I just want a cuddle," he laughed, taking in her suspicious expression. "I think we've had enough on the exhibitionist front for today, don't you?"

"I'd say so—" she cut off as a sudden wave of nausea rose up within her, and she clambered off of Sirius in time to retch violently into one of the potted plants. She felt Sirius' hands on her, rubbing soothing circles on her back while he held her hair back.

"Love," he asked as he handed her a transfigured handkerchief and a glass of water. "Are you ill, or are you…?"

Hermione swallowed, pressing a hand to her lower abdomen as she wondered if the lump she felt there was imagined or if it was what they both suspected. "I—I don't know, Carina's only a month old and it's only been a little over two weeks since I've been— well, and…" she looked up at him, still wide-eyed.

"May I?" Sirius asked, brandishing his wand with one hand while he cupped her cheek with the other, instantly calming her.

Hermione nodded, biting her lip as she flickered her gaze between Sirius and where his wand was pointed at her middle. He mumbled the spell that nearly all of her husbands now had memorized, and they both sucked in sharp breaths as her middle immediately glowed white.

"You're pregnant," Sirius' wide grey eyes flickered between her eyes and her stomach and back again.

"I'm pregnant," she breathed.

"You're pregnant!" Sirius exclaimed, snatching her up and spinning her in a circle before putting her down and kissing her stomach where it was covered behind her high-waisted shorts. "We might be having a baby."

"We might be," Hermione agreed, smiling widely as she pulled him into a hug, giggling happily all the while.

 **X**

When Hermione approached the grand double doors that lead to the gardens where Emma's party was being set up, she stopped short, gaping for a moment before she burst into laughter.

Neville was tossing Emma in the air, who let out long peals of laughter with each toss. The scene wouldn't have appeared out of the ordinary, but for what Emma was wearing. Instead of the rather demure yellow dress and the matching floral headband Hermione had set out for her, she was wearing a dress that had a glittering sequined bodice and was made up of shimmering, rainbow-colored swaths of gauzy material at the bottom that flared out like a flower with every toss that Neville made.

"Gods," Hermione guffawed. "Harry and Draco have been at it again, haven't they?"

Neville caught Emma and held her to his chest, flushing lightly. "It was, uh, actually my idea."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. " _Yours?_ "

Neville nodded, kissing the top of Emma's head from where it peeked through the bunched material of her dress. "They're always taking her out and buying her nice things, and I figured that I'd like to do something myself. Is it awful?"

"It's fantastic," she said, moving over to give him a gentle kiss. "Thank you for doting on her."

"Well, she is my step-daughter," Neville laughed. "And I do love her so," he added, tickling Emma until she giggled.

"Happy Birthday baby," Hermione cooed to her daughter, feeling moisture gathering in her eyes. " _How has she already gotten so big_ —"

"No, no, no— none of that today," Parvati's voice sounded from behind her. "If you cry, then I'll cry, and then Hannah'll cry and it'll be a thing," she waved a hand dismissively. "And—"

Parvati cut off as Hermione drew her into a tight hug. "Our babies have grown so much!"

"Honestly, Hermione," Parvati rolled her eyes when Hermione finally pulled back, hastily wiping away the tears that threatened to fall. "The dramatics, woman. And you've wrinkled my robes." She made a show of smoothing out the satin of her lilac robes and straightened the diamond necklace secured around her throat, but Hermione caught the glint of emotion in her eyes.

"And you've grown entirely too vain for my liking," Hermione shot back, grinning.

"Oh please," Parvati fingered a silky strand of Hermione's hair that currently hung down her back in loose waves.

"I'll have you know that Carina's taken to tangling her fingers in my unruly hair, and that is the _only_ reason I've caved into having Pinky do it for me." Hermione scowled as she recalled the way the elf had beamed at Hermione's request the swift, easy movements that the elf had used to have her hair done in seconds versus the hours she'd spent trying to tame it herself.

"A likely story," Harry laughed as he approached, wrapping an arm around Hermione's middle.

"Oh shut it," Hermione said. "Ano don't think I've forgotten about _your_ wardrobe."

Harry blinked. "What's wrong with my wardrobe?"

"You dress as if you've never heard of a tailor— or a comb," Draco threw over his shoulder as he sauntered past, carrying Carina in his arms.

Harry huffed, then looked at Hermione, who winced. "I mean…" she offered, to Harry's instant scowl. "We'll have a shopping trip soon, maybe?" she offered.

Parvati and Neville stifled laughs while Harry's scowl deepened.

"Shall we head to the party?" Neville asked Emma, who smiled and giggled as they all made their way into the gardens.

When they got outside, Hermione watched Parvati pause as her jaw dropped. " _Godric,_ " Parvati breathed.

The gardens had been charmed to perfection, showcasing a dream-like display of clouds and jutting rainbows. The fountain that dominated the middle of the gardens had been charmed to spurt glittering-rainbow colored water. Wispy clouds that appeared to rain glitter hovered just above the party guests, the flecks disappearing as they touched any objects. Trays floated about touting various delicacies fitting of the theme, and Hermione's teeth hurt just looking at the mountains of sweets that had been charmed to dip to eye level of the various toddlers that ran about. There were three live unicorns — that she could count — trotting amongst the party guests, and there were various games set about for the children, filling the air with small giggles that settled just below the din of conversation of the adults.

"Is that—" Padma gaped at the floating stage made of clouds that hovered several dozen feet away as waddled over to them, one hand resting on her bulging stomach while the other pointed at the stage. " _Celestina Warbeck?_ "

"It appears so," Hermione said, sighing at the ostentatious display.

"The Malfoys don't do anything halfway, huh?" Hannah added as she sidled up alongside Padma.

Harry scoffed. "Being Harry Potter does have its perks sometimes, I'll have you know."

Hermione giggled. "Thank you," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "It's— a lot, but you and Draco did a fantastic job."

Harry smiled at that. "Emma deserves the world. And Draco agrees."

" _Draco?_ " Parvati and Padma said in unison, raising their eyebrows at Harry who flushed in response.

"I _meant_ Malfoy," he insisted.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh please, it was bound to happen. You two were always meant to either be the worst of enemies or the best of friends."

"We are _not_ friends!" Harry protested.

"Is that why you've spent nearly every weekend for the past few months playing Quidditch for hours on end?"

"It's _Quidditch_!" Harry exclaimed as if it explained everything.

"I mean, mate," Neville stifled a smirk. "You have to admit that you've gotten close."

"Honestly, Harry, I'd suspect you two were having an affair if you weren't bound to Hermione," Padma said.

Hermione — among others — guffawed at that, while Harry continued to gape owlishly.

"I—Malfoy—we _hate_ —" Harry sputtered as their group tittered.

Hermione gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I think it's lovely," she giggled.

"How far along are you, Hermione?" Hannah interjected, looking at where the swell of her middle was visible through her form-fitting robes.

"I'm showing quite a lot, aren't I? I can't be more than two weeks, but even with Carina I was showing earlier than with Emma," she mused. She moved to smooth a hand over her stomach and instead found it bumping into both Harry and Neville's hands as both men had reached out to run possessive hands over her bump.

Hannah and Padma stifled giggles at the sheepish looks on their faces while Parvati smirked at them. "Have we placed any bets yet on who the daddy is?"

"Gran's about bursting for a baby Longbottom," Neville said.

"Hullo, Lily," Harry cooed at her stomach, frowning at the raised eyebrows he received in response. "What? I'm speaking it into existence."

"You're not itching for a boy?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. "I've accepted that we'll soon be overrun by women—" he cut off as Parvati smacked his arm.

" _She's_ currently overrun by men, Harry," Padma pointed out, crossing her arms.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Men," she said simply.

A throat cleared behind Hermione, and she turned to see Knobby standing behind her, wringing his hands as he looked up at her. "Mistress," the house elf's voice was small. "Mistress' father has come to call upon Mistress."

At that, Hermione's smile dropped. "I—I'll be back," she said absently as she turned to follow Knobby back into the Manor. The sounds of the party were quickly reduced to a din as she followed Knobby down the long hallways, the minutes stretching like hours the further they walked.

When they finally reached the open doors to one of the larger sitting rooms and Knobby turned to present her, she held up at hand to stop him before taking a deep, shaky breath. "You may go, Knobby," she said, giving him a small smile that she knew didn't meet her eyes. He disappeared with a quick crack a moment later, and Hermione took another deep breath before stepping into the sitting room.

Her father was standing in front of the fireplace, his back to her. His outline was illuminated by the glow of the fire, yet even as she stepped in she felt none of the familiar warmth emanating from his presence.

"Dad," her voice was small.

He turned slowly to appraise her, his eyes lingering on the swell of her stomach before he met her own briefly before looking away.

"I left Emma's gift with your elf," he said. His voice was low and carefully controlled, lacking the ease she was familiar with. Her heart banged as she realized that it had truly been years since she'd last heard that ease, although it had taken her months to admit it to herself.

"Are you coming to the party?" Her question fell flat as she already knew the answer he would give by the look in his eyes.

"No."

"Oh," she said when he offered no more. "Is mum…?"

"She went outside," he said. His eyes fell to her stomach again, and she found herself pressing a protective hand over her bump as she watched the way his lips had thinned harshly.

"Dad, I—"

"How old is Carina now?" He asked, cutting her off.

"Five weeks," Hermione answered, biting her lip.

"And how far along are you?"

"I—uhm, a week, maybe two. I've been busy with Carina, but my first appointment is in a few days."

Her father spat out a short, humourless laugh. "She's a mere five weeks old, yet you're already nearly two weeks along with the next."

"Dad," Hermione begged. "Please don't be like this."

"Please don't be like _what_ , Hermione?" his shoulders heaving as he snapped at her.

"Angry," she waved a hand in his direction. "It's breaking my heart," she added in a whisper.

"I'm breaking your heart?" her father's voice rose before he stopped, a fist clenched at his side. "Do you have _any_ idea how it feels to see you like this?"

Hermione sighed. "Dad, it's been weeks—"

"And you think a few mere weeks have provided enough time to absorb this? To justify any of it?" he snapped. "The more I think about it, the angrier I am. How much longer are you planning to remain in this—this prison for?"

"This is the life I've chosen, dad," she answered. "You know that."

" _Chosen?_ " he spat as though it were an expletive. "You plan to breed for these barbarians forever?"

"Don't—" she swallowed, "Don't say it like that. I'm _happy_ —"

"Happy? How can you be happy when you're married to—"

The floo flared to life then, and Arthur stepped out, dusting soot off of his robes.

"Hermione, love?" He looked between Hermione and her father, and she watched as realization began to dawn on him as he sensed the tension in the room.

"Hello, Arthur," she said, knowing he could hear the strain in her voice.

"Good afternoon," he greeted her father with a kind smile even as her father levelled his dark gaze on him in return.

"Do excuse me," he said as he met her eyes, squeezing her hand gently as he brushed past.

He had been about to drop her hand and exit when her father spoke again. "Is it his?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Instead of letting go, she gripped Arthur's hand harder. "We don't—we don't know yet."

Her father's lip curled. "But it could be?"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding.

"Do you want it to be yours?" he asked, and Hermione opened her mouth automatically to respond when she realized her father hadn't been speaking to her at all.

""I—" Arthur hesitated, looking down at Hermione before turning to face her father fully, "—yes, I would like that very much." His voice was soft, and was filled with a warm kindness that juxtaposed harshly against her father's frigid tone.

"So you are alright with all of this, then?" her father snapped.

"She is my wife," Arthur answered.

The air was thick with tension, and Hermione's heartbeat quickened as she saw how deep of a shade of red her father's face had gone.

"Dad, please," she begged.

"I trusted you with her," her father seethed, stalking forward slowly. "I trusted you with my daughter, my _little girl_ and you dare argue that she is your _wife_? As though you aren't some sick bastard who's taken advantage of my child? Who might have _impregnated_ her?!" His burning eyes flashed down to where Hermione continued to grip Arthur's hand tightly, refusing to let go despite the fact that she knew it was doing nothing but fueling her father's rage further.

And before she could even process the action, her father reared back and snapped his fist forward, punching Arthur directly in the face. Arthur fell to his knees, clutching his face where blood had started to flow from his nose.

"Dad!" she screamed as he reared back to punch Arthur again, draping herself over her husband's body. "Stop," her voice broke. " _Please._ "

Her father looked at how she was draped over Arthur before he stiffened, no longer hunched as if ready to strike but still rigid with angry tension. She took a moment to help Arthur back to his feet before she quickly muttered a spell to fix his broken nose and clean the blood from his face before turning back to where her father loomed over them, still heaving with anger.

"I told you that I'm happy now," she snapped. "I told you that even though I didn't choose this then, I choose this— I choose _them_ —now, I will choose them forever, and _I am happy_."

"And you choose him, too?" her father's voice was so hard, so cold that it pained her to face him.

She paused to take a deep, quivering, breath before she looked back up at him. "I choose him, dad. He is my husband— I always will."

Her heart shattered as she spoke the words, and she saw heartbreak mirrored in his eyes as well.

"And if you can't accept that, then— just go," she said, her words ringing with finality. She turned away, no longer able to face the look on her father's face.

And when she heard nothing in response but the roar of the floo as her father turned and left, she threw herself into Arthur's arms and sobbed.

* * *

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord sever: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	38. Chapter 38

**As always, so much love goes out to my beta, RESimon.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT**

Hermione huffed, cursing under her breath as she waved her wand over her stomach only for nothing to appear— again. She was lying on a chaise lounge in one of the larger sitting rooms, and Sirius sat beside her, gently massaging her feet. Kingsley and Draco were across the room playing a game of Wizard's chess, and Draco cursed loudly as Kingsley upended one of his pawns for what seemed to be the umpteenth time.

"Language!" Harry and Neville called from where they were sitting on the floor, playing with Emma. It had only been a couple of days since her birthday had passed, but Hermione still felt a pang of guilt in her stomach as she recalled the way she'd returned to the party after crying in Arthur's arms for nearly an hour, forcing herself to put on her brightest, falsest smile throughout the rest of the party. Emma, meanwhile, smiled at her mother.

"Dada!" the infant said, giggling. Hermione gave her a strained smile in return before scowling at the way all of her husbands hid smiles.

"Ma-ma, baby," Hermione enunciated. While she was proud that her child had spoken her first word, she was equally frustrated that Emma had taken it upon herself to call both her father _and_ her mother "dada".

"Dada?" Emma said, cocking her head in question.

Hermione sighed, then brought down her heel onto Sirius' thigh as she felt him shaking with laughter.

"Sorry, love," he said, looking quite the opposite of apologetic.

Hermione rolled her eyes before going back to casting a series of spells over her stomach.

"Any luck yet?" Sirius asked, gesturing at where another set of sparks had fizzled out over her stomach.

"Nothing," Hermione grumbled. "I've been watching them every time they've done the detection spells, and I'm a _bloody_ Healer for goodness' sake—" she cut off as Neville tutted at her, his hands covering Emma's ears, "—I swear that all she did was recite the words that I've already said so many times that I can do it wandlessly, then swished her wand like _so_ —"

Hermione cut off her rant abruptly as two glowing orbs suddenly appeared over her stomach, glowing a soft white. The room had descended into silence, and the sudden roar of the floo was deafening in comparison. Arthur stepped out, dusting off his robes as he looked around the room curiously before his eyes landed on the orbs floating above her stomach and he froze. Looking again at the expressions of the men around them, he turned to Hermione and asked, "Do they realize what that means?" His expression had morphed into one of awe as he watched the orbs, transfixed.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again as her eyes shot back from him to the glowing orbs over her stomach.

"'Mione?" Harry broke the silence that had descended over the room. "What does that mean?"

"It means there are two babies," she breathed. She looked up at Arthur, who nodded slowly in confirmation, his blue eyes sliding between her and the orbs. "I'm having twins."

Another beat of silence, then the room filled with noise as her husbands all burst into whoops of joy.

Hermione tapped her wand against each orb, which each filled with a swirling, silvery substance. "Twin _boys_ ," she whispered. A tiny hand reached out and poked at one of the orbs, and Hermione looked down to see Emma poking curiously at it. "You're getting two little brothers, Emma," Hermione said.

Hermione grinned through her happy tears as she was showered with congratulations and affection.

 **X**

"So."

"So…?" Harry quirked an eyebrow at Hermione through the large, three-sided mirror in front of him, fidgeting with the buttons of his new robes. Draco had been all too happy to summon Ismerlda to rejuvenate Harry's wardrobe, snickering in the background while the woman poked and prodded at the bespectacled man to his abject discomfort. Not half a day later, an array of clothing that ranged from distinctly wizarding to muggle was delivered to the Manor, his once sparsely filled closet now filled to the brim.

"Draco invited me to dinner tonight," she said carefully, watching as Harry's brow furrowed.

"And…?" Harry prodded, twisting in the mirror with a frown as he examined his dark robes outfitted with gleaming silver buttons that looked decidedly unlike him. "I'm not following why your dates with Malfoy are relevant to me, 'Mione."

"And…" she bit her lip, looking down. Her bump had already grown to the size she had been halfway through her pregnancies with both Emma and Carina, and she could already feel the flutters of her sons around within her. She smoothed an anxious hand over it repeatedly as she stammered through her next words. " _It'satGinny's_ ," she mumbled.

Immediately, Harry's face dropped and he spun to face her, his arms crossed over his chest. "Don't go, Hermione." His voice was as stiff as the rest of his tensed figure.

"Harry—"

"I know I can't stop you because you will always do what you like regardless, but I'm asking you not to go anyway," he continued, his lips thinning into a hard line as he met her pleading gaze in the mirror.

"You know that's not true," she said. "I always consider your opinion, and you know that."

"You always end up doing what you had set your mind to in the first place, and _you_ know that," he said, quirking a brow at her. "And you're determined to go, aren't you?"

She sighed resignedly, although she knew his words were not untrue. "I am," she said slowly, watching the way his frown deepened. "It could be a good thing—"

"A good thing?" Harry scoffed. "Yes, it'll be _fantastic_ for you to sit down to dinner with her in her home, where she can torment you freely while you remain ever the proper stepmother that you are."

Hermione stood, moving over to wrap her arms around his middle. "It won't be that bad, Harry," she said. "They invited us, after all. I'm sure she'll be on her best behavior."

"Her 'best behavior' is insulting you until you run off—"

Hermione nuzzled her head into his chest. "I have to pick my battles, Harry. She won't be like this forever."

Harry sighed. "She's treating you like this because of me, 'Mione."

"You had no control over our betrothal, just as much as Arthur had no choice, either. Yes, what happened with Ron was unfortunate, but that was on me, Harry. Not you. Just like her attitude is her choice, and has nothing to do with you." She pulled back to cup his cheek, forcing him to look at her.

His jaw was rigid with tension, and she ran a thumb along it until he unclenched, leaning into her palm. "You don't deserve this," he said. "As much as you may try to explain it away, we both know that I'm a big part of the reason she's treating you like this. And that... _that_ is what kills me."

He leaned down until his forehead touched hers. "Falling out of love with Ginny and falling in love with you never coincided," Harry reminded her. "You know that, don't you?"

Hermione nodded, pulling his head down until she could kiss him. "Of course I do," she said. "Let me do this," she added.

Harry sighed before nodding. "Okay."

She pulled him into another kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too, 'Mione."

 **X**

By the time she stepped out of the Floo at Nott Manor, she was feeling decidedly less confident. The room they emerged into was dark and cavernous, made up of high, vaulted ceilings with imposing statues scattered throughout, the features of the creatures they displayed frozen in menacing sneers. Every sound they made echoed throughout the room, and as Hermione's eyes swept from the onyx marble to the towering windows that showcased the darkening grounds outside, she realized that _Malfoy Manor_ of all places felt twice as welcoming as this place.

"Care to share?" Hermione's head snapped from the décor to where Blaise Zabini leaned casually against the far wall, his deep blue velvety robes nearly blending in with the dark room. His rich, dark skin glowed in the golden light the fire threw off, giving his strikingly handsome features an almost ethereal air. It reminded Hermione of his mother's beauty, and she found herself scowling at the memory.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her. "Not quite to your fancy then, Granger?" He looked around the room, smirking. "But then again, the Notts have always had quite the vibe of the type that fancies lairs, no?"

"Piss off, Zabini," the younger Nott appeared behind him, casually flipping Draco the bird in response to his answering snort.

"It feels as cozy as ever," Draco drawled, his sarcastic jibe punctuated by the decidedly cool temperature of the long hall they followed their hosts down.

Hermione found herself surreptitiously casting a warming charm on herself as she shivered both in response to the cool air and the even cooler looks the portraits that lined the hall gave her. Unlike the spirited portraits at Malfoy Manor, these portraits simply watched her intently as she passed, the silk of her emerald green robes feeling entirely too thin. Draco held her hand tightly in his, and she wondered if the whispers she was used to were not partly suppressed by the dark glares he swept around the room.

Thankfully, it was not long before they emerged into a grand dining room. It was much brighter than the other parts of the Manor she had seen thus far, an array of muted greens and greys. A large, glittering chandelier dominated the center of the room, glowing with the light of what must have been a thousand lit candles upon it. In all, it was every bit as ostentatious as the room her family dined in most days, as she expected of pureblood principles.

There was a long dining table stretched through the center of the room, and Ginny sat at the head of it. She appraised Hermione quietly as she approached, eyes lingering on her bump for several seconds before she met Hermione's eyes and gave her a small, strained smile. "Welcome," she said stiffly. She wore light blue silk robes that were in a style not unlike Hermione's, and Hermione noticed that her stomach was flat, realizing that it had been quite some time since she'd last seen Ginny when she wasn't pregnant.

"Hello, Ginny," Hermione said, slipping into the seat Blaise offered her. "Thank you," she said to him.

"My pleasure," he smiled, and Hermione spied Ginny scowling beyond them. Theo snapped his fingers and their first course appeared before them.

"Is it just us for the evening, then?" Hermione asked, giving their hosts a polite smile. She had suspected that it might have come down to this awkward gathering of five but had held out hope nonetheless.

"My other husbands are out for the evening," Ginny answered. "They send their regards."

Hermione nodded, taking a generous mouthful of her salad in lieu of asking further questions. The others quieted as well, but soon — too soon — they had all finished their salads and steaming plates of beef wellington and potatoes appeared before them.

"So, Weaselette—" Draco smirked before immediately getting cut off by Ginny's answering growl.

"Not my name, _Ferret_ ," Ginny answered through gritted teeth.

"I was merely going to ask what you _do_ go by these days," Draco finished smoothly.

"Considering that I have never gone by Weaselette," Ginny shot back, "I do not see why you seem to give a damn what my name is all of a sudden."

"It's somewhere in the realm of Zabini-Nott-Goldstein-Wood-Richards-" Blaise cut off at Ginny's scowl. Still, when he winked at her, Hermione caught the tinge of a blush on the redhead's cheek as she looked down, her mouth slightly upturned at one corner.

"I think that for tonight, Nott is fine," Ginny said, and Hermione spied Theo smirking into his goblet of wine.

"So tell me," Theo turned to her, giving her a slow smile as he appraised her. "What name do you go by these days? What is it again? Shacklebolt-Potter-Black-Malfoy-Weasley—" Ginny's goblet of wine hit the table with a loud clatter at the name, and Draco quickly cleared his throat, drawing Theo's attention to him.

"Malfoy," Draco answered for her. "She is a Malfoy twice over, so I think that goes without saying."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I _prefer_ Granger, although that is now the one name that I can no longer legally go by."

"I for one agree with Mafloy's logic," Theo said seriously. "Perhaps an outside opinion will sway my dear wife here? She is a Nott twice over, after all."

The smile Ginny gave him was full of affection. "Perhaps," she said.

"I think not," Blaise interjected, giving them both a frown.

"So — how are the children?" Hermione asked.

"Fine," Ginny answered, the teasing smile she'd been giving Blaise gone completely as she turned to Hermione.

Theo scowled. "Celeste finally went to sleep after— how many was it?"

"Two feedings and approximately six lullabies," Blaise sighed. "And Jackson, of course, woke up in the midst of the fifth one, and so on, and so forth."

"And let's not forget Maxmillian's antics this morning," Theo added. "He tried to chew poor Mippy's ear off," he said, although Hermione spied a devious smirk on his lips.

"Let's not pretend that he hasn't gotten his antics from you," Ginny said, arching an eyebrow at her husband.

"I know not of what you speak," Theo smirked.

"So, Mrs. Malfoy, how far along are you?" Blaise asked.

"A little over a month," Hermione smiled, smoothing a hand over her bump. "I can already feel hints of them moving."

Theo raised an eyebrow. "Twins, then?"

Hermione nodded. "Twin boys."

"High chance you'll have an heir soon, then?" Blaise ribbed at Draco. Only Hermione caught the slight tightening of Draco's fist that was atop his thigh, and she placed a hand over it. "You've only got...how many left now?" Blaise asked.

"It, uh, could actually be anyone's," Hermione said.

"How delightful," Ginny said, before taking a long sip from her goblet of wine. "Do tell me—are you carrying my unwanted little brothers or someone else's homewrecking spawn?"

The room fell into stunned silence.

Hermione's jaw dropped open, aghast. " _Ginny_ —"

"Ginevra," Blaise said, his voice devoid of the humor it had held only moments prior.

"No, really, I would so love to know which of my newest siblings will be related to _Lucius Malfoy's_ child," she spat his name as though it were a curse, "birthed by my whore of a stepmother—"

"Enough!" Hermione thundered, throwing back her seat so hard as she stood that she heard the heavy chair tumble to the ground behind her, the loud noise echoing throughout the room. "I am sick and tired of your bitter act! You have done nothing but berate, cajole, and exclude me for nearly a year and a half now. And I am _done_. I allowed it at first because I felt guilty. Then, I said nothing, because I am your stepmother now whether I want to be or not, and my duty lies with my husband and his happiness. But now— he is not present, and I am at my wits' end. So I hope you understand that I mean it when I say that you have become such a cold-hearted _bitch_ , Ginevra, and that I am shocked anyone can even recognize you."

And with that, Hermione turned on her heel and stormed out of the dining room.

Her heels clicked loudly on the onyx marble that was lain throughout the Manor, the noise they made the only sound as she stormed down the long hall, twisting around the first corner she encountered in a huff. Instead of emerging in the foyer they'd originally entered in, however, she found herself emerging through an archway that lead to a grand ballroom. It was only half the size of the one at Malfoy Manor, yet her trek across it felt unusually long as she decided that she most definitely would _not_ be going back the way she had come. When she made the doors to the ballroom fly open, however, she found herself face to face with none other than Theo Nott, who looked as casual as ever from where he leaned against the wall across from her, a dark eyebrow arched curiously.

"Lost, Malfoy?" he drawled.

"If you've come to show me the exit, please do so. But if you've come to defend your wife, I do _not_ want to hear it," she snapped, whipping her head around the hall as she tried to decide which direction to head off in when Theo did not move, the smirk playing on his features indicating he intended to offer her no aid.

"You're quite the spirited one, aren't you?" he said, falling into step beside her as she stormed past him.

"I will find my way out shortly and be out of your home in hopes of _never_ returning," she said, making to speed up despite knowing how deeply inhibited she was by the children she carried and the entirely impractical heels she'd donned for the occasion.

"Your husband is giving my wife quite the earful," Theo continued casually.

"And you didn't stay to defend her honor?" Hermione asked sarcastically, huffing as she turned yet another corner to find another hall that seemingly lead nowhere. "How lovely of you."

Theo shrugged. "Blaise is more than enough. Besides, Malfoy and I got into it all the time at Hogwarts, figured it was his turn."

Hermione's breaths were getting ragged, and she gave up trying to outpace him, knowing his long limbs could match her pace easily. "Haven't you been best mates since birth?"

"Indeed," he said. "Doesn't mean I can't acknowledge that he's a bloody git half the time."

Hermione ignored him, her annoyance growing as she realized how utterly lost she'd found herself. As she rounded the next corner, however, Nott's hand grabbed her shoulder suddenly, stopping her.

"Not that way," he said, the easy humor she'd heard earlier gone from his voice.

Hermione peeked down the hall, seeing a large, ornate door at the end of it. "What's there?" she asked, her mind running through the possibilities.

"My father's wing," Theo said, twisting her and urging her in the opposite direction with a hand pressed firmly in the small of her back. "This way."

"Where is your father?" Hermione asked, peeking up at the rigid set of his chiseled jaw.

"Around," he said stiffly. "It's best you do not encounter him."

"What is he like?" she prodded softly.

"Unpleasant."

"Oh."

They moved down another long hall in silence, although Hermione's mind was bursting with questions. She knew that Ginny was married to both Theo and his father, and Theo's reaction to her questions gave her pause.

"Does he treat her well?" Her voice was small as she asked the question, fearing Theo's answer. He was quiet, and she didn't realize they'd reached a set of double doors until he pushed them open, revealing a large sitting room. A large fireplace lay across the room, and a telltale bowl of Floo powder stood in an ornate stand beside it. Still, she did not feel a flood of gratitude as much as the dread that twisted in her stomach as she thought of the implication of Theo's words.

"He's cordial," he answered finally, and Hermione caught the twitch in his jaw as he answered.

"Oh." Her answer fell flat, but she could find nothing else to add. She thought of the months Lucius had treated her with cold indifference, about how each time she'd left his rooms she'd felt on the verge of tears, and felt an uncomfortable twist in her stomach as she thought of how long she would have been able to endure if the behavior had persisted. She made her way over to the Floo and had gathered a handful of powder into a fist when she paused, turning back to where Theo stood, silently watching her.

"Tell her that I'm sorry," she said.

Theo let out a short, humorless laugh. "She won't care."

Hermione's fist tightened around the handful of powder, causing some of it to slip between her fingers and disappear in dusty wisps. "I know. But still—tell her."

Theo gave a short, sharp nod. "I will."

And with a short nod of her own, Hermione stepped into the floo and called out her home, her mind swirling with uncomfortable thoughts.

* * *

 **Don't worry — there'll be more on Ginny in the next chapter. Every character has their motivations. And also — twins! Can't wait to hear your thoughts.**

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord sever: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	39. Chapter 39

**Thank you all for your patience and kind words during these unusually long waits between updates. It means the world to me that you guys have been so understanding about the difficult times going on in my personal life. So much love goes out to all of you!**

 **As always, beta love goes to RESimon. You're a dream.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE**

"Arthur," Hermione called, reaching out to grasp his sleeve.

He turned, giving her face a brief glance before he turned back to where Harry had paused at where the grand double doors of the foyer of Charlie's home stood open, the voices of the greater Weasley brood floating down the hall. "You go on ahead, Harry," he encouraged, and Harry waited until she gave him a quick, encouraging smile before he wandered off towards the noise.

"Are you sure it's alright for me to be here?" She ran a hand over her bump nervously until Arthur's hand folded over hers, stilling it.

"It's fine, Hermione," he said. "I promise."

She nodded, her eyes still trained on where his hand had folded over hers, resting gently on her bump. It was the most contact they'd had since his encounter with her father. She'd gone to him twice since the incident, and he'd politely declined her company, leaving her feeling hollow and confused as she made her way back to her rooms. Despite his reassurances that nothing was amiss, she knew that something fundamental had shifted between them, creating an awkwardness that lingered in the air between them with their every private interaction.

She lifted her other hand to close over his, but before she could make contact he had already pulled away, heading toward the doors. She looked up to see him already halfway to the doors, likely having assumed that she was following behind him.

"Arthur," she called.

He paused, turning to look at her questioningly. She searched his expression, seeing the open, kindly look she had grown so used to on the surface, yet she could see the closed-off look that lingered just below it. He was ever the picture of composure — and distance.

"I—"

"Let's go greet everyone, shall we?" he cut her off smoothly, giving her an encouraging smile while nodding at her to follow him. He turned and hurried out the door, disappearing around the corner.

She took a deep breath, swallowing before she followed behind him, willing the tears that threatened to fall to retreat before they spilled over. At the end of the hall, she found him waiting for her, his elbow outstretched for her to take it. She caught a flicker of sadness reflected in his blue eyes before he gave her a small smile as she took his arm, letting him lead her into the room where the rest of the family had gathered.

It was a large, high-ceilinged room, filled with intricate gilding and murals detailing individuals she did not recognize dressed majestically or engaging in epic battles. The extended Weasley family was scattered around the room, gathered on various settees while the youngest generation milled about them. Various trays carrying an array of appetizers and desserts floated throughout the room, and some were charmed to dip to the eye level of the children— to their obvious delight. Hermione made to move to where she spotted Harry, Dean, Oliver, and Parvati chatting in a corner when Fred and George noticed their entrance.

"Dad!" The twins cheered, bringing various sets of eyes swinging to where Hermione and Arthur stood in the doorway. "Stepmother!"

Hermione cringed at the term, suddenly hyper-aware of how all eyes in the room had swung to her at Fred and George's exclamations. The room had dropped into near silence, and Hermione yearned to turn and flee.

"Good evening," she said, keeping her eyes trained on no one in particular as she remained determined to keep her voice steady.

"Welcome," Charlie said, walking up to them with a smile. He had an infant on his hip with bright red curls and blue eyes that matched his own.

"Gemma!" Arthur exclaimed, reaching out for the infant as she reached for her grandfather.

Hermione watched Arthur cradle and coo at his granddaughter, not realizing that she'd been cradling her own bump until Charlie chuckled from beside her. "A little brother or sister, possibly?" he said, gesturing at her bump.

"Twin boys, actually," she smiled.

He raised his eyebrows. "Your first set, then?"

Hermione laughed at the look on his face. "Yes— should I be worried?"

"I mean, if they're Weasleys…" he trailed off, looking over toward where Fred and George played with their own daughters who wore matching cream-colored dresses, the color complimenting their caramel skin and ebony curls.

"Godric," she groaned. "Can you imagine?"

Charlie chuckled at her expression. "They're just itching for two boys to take under their wings."

"Well, best of luck to them—I'm determined to make them into mummy's angels as best I can."

"Best of luck with that," Charlie teased, blue eyes twinkling. He sighed as they sobered, looking over to where Arthur still played with Gemma. "Still can't believe I'm a father, to be honest."

Hermione looked down at the bump of her robes, rubbing it affectionately. "Two years ago I'd have laughed in your face if you'd told me I'd be a mother of four by my twenty-first Christmas," she agreed.

"If someone had told you that two years ago, you'd have balked at the idea of those children being Ron's as well," Charlie added, looking over at where Jasmine had just smeared a frosted sweet on his trousers.

"Can you imagine?" she laughed, then sobered. "Although being forewarned of my current situation would have likely sent me into cardiac arrest," she mused with a frown. "You must miss being abroad, don't you?

"I'm a paper-pusher now," Charlie said. "At the _Ministry_. Who would have thought? Eighteen-year-old me would've had a fit."

"I'm sorry, Charlie," Hermione said, patting him on the arm.

"'S'not so bad, honestly. I'm working with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," he said. "Could be worse. Come home to my wife and children every night and all— it's quite steady."

"Lovely home you have, by the way," Hermione said, looking around the extravagantly decorated room.

"Only half as pompous as yours, I'd reckon," he quipped, and Hermione couldn't help laughing at that. "Strange, isn't it?" he said, his voice an octave softer. "Taking over their homes?"

Hermione nodded, looking around at the murals of strangers that adorned the room, knowing that they were likely part of the legacy of the family that had once occupied this home.

"I haven't been able to bring myself to check," Charlie said with a faraway look in his eyes, "whether they're in Azkaban or if they've died. I'll always wonder if it was them who almost go Fred. Or if it was them who helped engineer the plague—" he cut off, his voice brimming with emotion.

"Charlie," she said, taking his hand.

"It'll be a year next Monday," he said. "Not a moment goes by that I don't miss him."

Hermione thought of Bill and how close she knew they'd been as the two older brothers growing up, knowing that the broken look in Charlie's eyes would never quite fade.

"Charlie?" They turned around to see that Su, Charlie's wife, had entered the room behind them, a sleeping infant in her arms. She gave Hermione a small smile that Hermione quickly returned. "Is everything alright?" she asked as she moved closer, searching her husband's eyes.

"Fine," Charlie said, giving her an easy smile that Hermione suspected did not meet his eyes, although she could not confirm because he had turned away from her. "How's our little Will?" he cooed at the infant.

Hermione's heart broke a little more at the mention of the infant's name, a further reminder of the missing member of the Weasley brood. She watched as Su said something to Charlie in a low tone before cupping his cheek and bringing him down into a slow kiss. She slipped away from the intimate scene between the two, making a beeline toward where Harry still sat, chatting with their former schoolmates. Unfortunately, she made it only halfway before the twins spotted her, mischievous grins immediately lighting up their faces.

"Stepmother!" Fred and George cheered again loudly.

Hermione cringed before she was enveloped in a hug from both twins, both of whom were shaking with laughter.

"I am going to hex you both," she muttered between them. The twins pulled back with mischievous smiles dancing on their lips, each placing a gentle hand on her bump.

"Twins, I hear?" Fred smirked.

"Two more little brothers just itching to be taken under our wings," George added, smiling wider at the look on Hermione's face.

"Best of luck with that," she said, narrowing her eyes at them, "these two are destined to be mummy's little boys no matter who their fathers are."

"Ahh—"

"—you've already got two daddy's girls, haven't you?"

Hermione scowled. "They'll come around," she insisted, feeling incensed at the memory of how Emma and Carina both had been too wrapped up in their fathers' embraces earlier to let her say a proper goodbye.

"Right," Fred said.

George smirked. "As will the twins, I'm sure."

"Oh, shut it," she said.

"Please," Angelina popped her head out from where she was seated behind them, rolling her eyes. "Jade and Zoe are quite the mummy's girls themselves, so you can't really say anything now, can you?" she smirked.

Hermione immediately burst into laughter at the way the smiles quickly vanished from their faces. As it were, the twins' twin daughters were currently standing at their mother's knees, taking alternate licks of the icing Angelina kept swiping off a cupcake to feed them.

"They just haven't yet grown accustomed to our charms, is all," Fred intoned.

George met his look, nodding fiercely. "Besides, they're _infants_ —"

"Mmhm," Angelina hummed, shooting Hermione a wink.

As if on cue, Hermione felt a familiar lurch in her stomach and stood up. "Off to the loo," she rushed before heading out of the room. Fortunately, it did not take her long to find the nearest loo. Unfortunately, however, she took several wrong turns on her way back and found herself wandering the halls of the sprawling home, completely lost. She'd spent several confusing minutes attempting to retrace her steps when she heard soft voices floating towards her and quickly hurried closer, grateful to have found refuge.

As she drew nearer, however, she started to slow as she slowly realized that she recognized the voices she heard. Her heartbeat began to pick up as she moved closer still and the voices clarified, leaving her without a doubt as to who spoke when she finally peeked into the sitting room the two persons occupied.

Arthur and Molly sat together on a settee in front of the small fire that burned in the hearth before them. The light of the fire danced off them, giving their hair a coppery glow while their skin shone softly. Now that Hermione had a moment to observe her, she took in the subtle changes in Molly's appearance that she had yet to fully notice. Her hair had grown longer, falling down her back in a thick, gleaming sheet. She wore a soft layer of makeup that expertly concealed the bags Hermione had been accustomed to seeing beneath her eyes over the years while she'd chased after her children. Her pristine emerald green silk robes were embroidered with roses that complimented the glow on her cheeks. Her robes were cinched at the waist with an elegant golden tie, showcasing her slightly slimmer figure that Hermione doubtlessly attributed to the clever post-birth rejuvenation spells the Healers employed. Coupled with her generous curves that the robes showcased expertly, Hermione felt a soft pang in her heart at the woman's undeniable beauty.

Seated beside Arthur the way she was, Hermione caught a glimmer of the handsome young couple that had fallen in love at Hogwarts. They were nearly shoulder to shoulder, and her heart ached as she observed the easy comfort between them, knowing that she was nowhere near that in her own relationship with him. She turned to leave, knowing that the least she could do was give them the space they seldom received.

Before she could go, however, Molly's words met her ears and made her pause, frozen where she stood.

"Something's happened between you two," Molly said. "But it's no longer my place to ask, is it?"

There was a beat of silence before Arthur answered. "I had an altercation with her father."

"Oh, Arthur," Molly said.

"He hates me— despises me. And I cannot place any blame on him, because I know what it's like. I feel it every day for my own daughter."

"I feel it too," Molly answered. "It's...nearly all of my husbands are so young, and…"

"I know, Molly," Arthur said softly. "I know.

It was quiet then, and Hermione felt guilt twisting in her gut as she recalled the way her father had lashed out at her husband, thinking of the shame he'd clearly been drowning in since.

"How have things worked out, living with—with—" Molly's voice broke.

"With _him?_ " Arthur answered, and Hermione paused. _Who...?_

"The pain he caused our daughter...she woke up screaming for _years_ , Arthur. I won't ever be able to forget it. She was so young. And now—"

The rest of Molly's words were lost to Hermione as realization dawned on her. _Lucius._ The diary. The way Tom Riddle had plagued Ginny's every waking moment for nearly an entire school year and had lingered in her dreams for years after. And now...Arthur was forced to live under the same roof as the man who'd caused his daughter such anguish.

"—he's apologized, Molly," she heard Arthur say as she started to listen again. Despite his words, Hermione could hear the pain of recollection in his voice. "And he...I have a feeling that suffered for it too."

"Our _daughter_ suffered, and it's a pain that I'll always carry with me," Molly said. "As much as I'll carry—" she cut off, her broken voice leaving the burning memory of Bill unsaid.

A long silence descended then, but still Hermione could not bring herself to leave despite how intrusive she felt.

"I miss you, Arthur." Molly's voice was laced with a yearning that felt like a blow directly to Hermione's chest, and she bit her lip to stop herself from making a sound.

Arthur said nothing in response, and a tense silence descended for several moments. Hermione had shrunk back into the shadows outside the door but longed to risk another peek to see the expression on his face.

"You know that I miss you too, Molly," he said softly. "What do you expect me to say?"

Of course, he missed her— she'd been his wife. The reminder still didn't stop the twisting feeling in Hermione's gut.

"Do you remember our late night strolls back at Hogwarts?" she asked, her voice wistful.

"How could I forget?" Arthur said. It was quiet then, and Hermione wished so desperately to see what was going on that she risked another peek into the room—

And regretted it immediately. They had leaned their foreheads together, mouths so close that Hermione thought that only an exhale would cause their lips to brush together. She wanted to turn away but couldn't, her eyes stuck on the scene.

It was Arthur who pulled back first. He shifted away from her until their sides were no longer touching, running a slow hand through her hair before pulling away completely. When Molly blinked her eyes open, Hermione could see unshed tears shining in them.

"How are things?" Molly's voice was low but still traveled easily to Hermione's prying ears.

Arthur sighed. "Molly..."

"Am I no longer allowed to be concerned then, either?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I miss you, Arthur," Molly repeated. "And I don't know if I'll ever quite be used to this."

"And I miss you," he sighed. "But...this is how things are now, Molly." He sounded tired, resigned.

"And that means that I just have to...accept it?" Molly scoffed. "We were together for _decades_ , Arthur—"

"Do you think I've just forgotten that?" he answered, his voice sharper than Hermione ever remembered hearing it, "We haven't been a couple in years, Molly, and you know that—"

"What defines a couple?" Molly asked. "Is it just sex? Because we are so much more than that, you are well aware of it."

"You know as well as I that sex does not a relationship make," Arthur said, and Hermione felt the knife that had felt stuck in her heart since she'd stumbled upon the conversation burrow itself deeper. Because that was all they had together, wasn't it? Sex, once every eight days for over a year now. They'd barely gone on two dates since they'd been married, and even one of those had ended in just that— sex.

"It's been years, Molly, and maybe this is for the best." Arthur's tone sounded conflicted, tossing his intentions off the edge of ambiguity.

Molly heard this, too — of course she had. "What we have now is best?" Molly's answer was quiet, and Hermione heard the hurt it was laced with. "How can anything be for the best when we're not with each other?"

"What do you expect me to say?" Arthur's voice had quieted as much as hers. "We've been bonded anew for well over a year now."

"I just…" she could hear the tremble in Molly's voice. "I just want to hear you admit it."

Hermione's heart raced as she waited for Arthur's response, dreading his next words.

"And what purpose would that serve?" he answered finally. "What purpose would that serve except hurting us more?"

It wasn't an outright denial, and Hermione felt the breath she'd held escape her in a low _whoosh_ as she was faced with the gravity of his words. Hermione's hand closed over the swell of her stomach as she felt one of the babies kick as though he felt his mother's distress. Children that could possibly be his, despite the fact that their marriage hung upon a precipice she'd paid scant attention to until this moment.

"Do you love her?"

"She is my wife, Molly," Arthur answered softly. "What I do or do not feel for her does not matter— my duties lie with her."

She'd thought Molly's previous question and Arthur's subsequent answer had been the worst blow of the conversation thus far, but this she had somehow not anticipated, and it felt her breath leave her in a low shudder once again.

"You used to say that to me," Molly said in a broken whisper. "What are we now?"

"Friends."

Molly scoffed. "How can we possibly be friends?"

"We can _try_."

There was a shuffling sound, and Hermione pictured Arthur moving closer to pull Molly into him, trying to ignore the way her heart seemed to break even more at the thought.

There was a movement in Hermione's peripheral vision, and she whirled to see Ginny herself standing behind her, an unreadable expression on her face. Ginny glanced over at where she could see her parents sitting, then back at Hermione.

Before Ginny could open her mouth, Hermione stormed past her, determined not to give her to satisfaction of seeing her cry. She knew not where she was going, but managed to happen upon the entrance hall and was soon stumbling through the grand double doors. She gasped for air as she burst through them, heaving in the night air. She wiped hastily at the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. Arthur was her husband, yes, but he had been Molly's first. The truth of the matter had yet to feel so stark— or so painful.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Hermione whirled to find Ginny standing behind her, brown eyes glittering in the low light that emanated from the floating lanterns that hovered beside the grand doors that lead into Charlie's estate.

"With all due respect— which is very little, might I add— _piss off_ , Ginny,"

Hermione caught a quick flash of the younger woman's teeth as she smirked. "Touché."

Hermione said nothing, instead continuing to glare out over the expanse of the grounds of Charlie's estate. She felt as foreign in her marriage as Charlie did living here, stuck in an existential limbo as she'd tried to avoid the litany of issues that had always hovered just below the surface of her pseudo-happy home life.

"They married in a time when things were still very uncertain," Ginny continued, carrying on despite Hermione's decidedly unwelcoming posture. "It somehow feels fitting that they were divorced in the aftermath of his death."

"I would tell you that if you're trying to make me feel better, it's certainly not working, but we both know you'd never do that," Hermione said, her voice hard.

"You're right— I wouldn't," Ginny answered smoothly. "But it doesn't mean that I won't take the opportunity to have someone else to wallow in misery with."

"I am _not_ here to sympathize with your choice to be a bitter bitch all the time."

"Ah, but you've never asked why I'm like this now, have you? You've been too wrapped up in your perfectly happy little life to even care."

Hermione said nothing, instead starting to storm down the steps, determined to get away from the taunting redhead although she knew not precisely where she was headed.

"You're married to the reason why," Ginny called after her.

"I know that!" Hermione snapped. "I'm sorry about Lucius, I am. And Harry—well, quite frankly, that was completely out of my control and we both know it, so please do us both a favor and _get over it_."

"I almost died, Hermione," Ginny said, her voice softer than before. "Although nearly everyone seems to have forgotten it."

Hermione had descended a few more steps but paused again at Ginny's words, although she did not turn to face her. For the first time in a long while Ginny looked open and vulnerable, akin to the girl she'd been back at Hogwarts so long ago.

"I almost died, and I was so scared, but it's all seemingly been forgotten in all of this. I was terrified, Hermione. But do you know what I held on to? Harry. Always him. Even back then, when that man tore into my mind while I was so young, I held on because I knew that I had to be strong for Harry. During the war, I held out hope for him, because he was more than the center of the war to me— he was the man I loved, _everything_. After the War ended, when we'd finally gotten back together and things felt right again, I thought I could breathe again.

"But then the plague hit, and everything was thrown into chaos again. Harry was still my constant though, even then. So do you know how it felt to see him comforting you first, after having run with you for nearly a year? I thought we needed some time and space for him to untangle your friendship from his desperate need for survival, but all breaking up did was bring you closer. Do you have any idea how it felt to see him —my only constant— marry you?" Ginny sucked in a ragged breath, and Hermione turned to see tears shining on her cheeks. "And not only that, but I have to see you married to him as well as the man that is the reason why I had that diary in the first place, the reason why those nightmares plagued me for years— why they still do. He walks free now, but I constantly wonder if I'll ever be free of the memories of the torment I endured for that year. Sometimes, I can barely hear your name without thinking about all of it. You're inextricably tied to everything that's broken me and it's just _hard_ , Hermione."

"It's just been so hard, letting go and accepting all of it. New husbands, all these children— and no Harry, even though he's what I've held on to for so long."

The silence that descended in the wake of Ginny's words was awful. She had no words for the torment she'd heard in the other woman's voice, no comfort she could offer because the truth of the matter hung heavy in the air between them — no matter how it was framed, Hermione would always be at the center of her pain.

"I heard about your husband— Theo's father," Hermione said eventually, breaking the silence that had descended. "The Marriage Law hasn't been easy on any of us, and—" she cut off at Ginny's snort.

"Alistair? _Please,_ " she said, waving a hand dismissively. "He's fine. Cold, yes. But he treats me with respect, and it's all I ask from him." Ginny sighed then, sitting down on the top step.

"Oh," Hermione said lamely, and when their eyes met they both laughed. Hermione felt some of the tension melting away and ambled awkwardly around her bump to sit on one of the stone steps as well.

"I've fallen in love with Theo. And Blaise, and Oliver, and I'm even falling for Anthony, too," Ginny said after another silence, laughing. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"

Hermione smiled briefly, thinking of how she'd fallen for several of her husbands as well. As her thoughts landed on Arthur and his kindly smile, her smile faded. She felt a hand on her shoulder then and looked up to see Ginny looking at her with a sad expression.

"I'm sorry for a lot of things," she said, her voice gentler than it had been in years. "But especially this. It hasn't been easy on anyone, and as much as I know that my parents didn't deserve to get separated the way they did, you don't deserve that pain, either."

She squeezed Hermione's shoulder again before she stood and departed.

* * *

 **Quite the rough turn here, I know. Can't wait to hear your thoughts.**

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord sever: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	40. Chapter 40

**Thank you to RESimon for being such a wonderful beta.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY**

Emma's anguished wails echoed into the hallway, filling Hermione's heart with dread and guilt as she gripped the gilded doorknob to her daughter's nursery. The longer Hermione heard the child's cries continue, the further her heart broke. She considered turning and fleeing instead, but she knew she couldn't. Instead, she tentatively pushed the door open, releasing the cries into the hall.

Emma was in her father's arms, thrashing her head violently from side to side as he tried to press a bottle of milk between her lips. Hermione approached slowly, the pain of watching her daughter in distress flaring more the closer she came. She felt as though she were being dragged through hot glass, watching her daughter in such distress and knowing that she was the source of it.

"Mama!" Emma screamed as her dark eyes alighted upon her mother. She threw her weight towards Hermione, arms outstretched as she reached out towards her, desperately clawing the air with chubby fingers. "Mama!" She had finally learned to call Hermione mama, but at that moment each cry of the word cut like a knife.

"Emma, baby," Hermione pleaded. "Please drink." She moved to ask Severus to pass her the bottle in his hands and froze at the look of pure fury in his eyes.

"Severus," she whispered, her guilt burrowing deeper. "Let me try—"

"You have done _enough_ ," he snapped, pulling Emma into his chest as he strode quickly across the room.

"Severus," she pleaded again, her voice nearly lost to the sound of Emma's continued screams. She followed him over to Emma's large bay window, seating herself on the plush cushion beside him. "I'm sorry." Her voice was small and laced with anguish.

"If you are sorry," Severus enunciated, leveling his glare are her, "then you will feed her."

Hermione sighed. "You have to understand why I can't—"

"What I understand is that you've chosen to put my child in distress." Severus' voice dripped with a venom that stung nearly as much as the hateful look in his eyes.

"I—" Hermione cut off as she was lurched forward suddenly, and looked down to see that Emma had burrowed her tiny fists in the fabric of her mother's robes. She began gnawing fiercely at her mother's breast beneath her robes, and when Hermione pulled away the purple satin was wet with the child's tears and saliva.

"You can't have mummy's milk anymore baby," Hermione pleaded. "Please understand. This milk is just as good, I promise."

Her words fell on deaf ears. "Mama!" Emma screamed, reaching for her mother once more.

"You've done this, and you are the reason she is in pain, so if you refuse to offer any true form of aid then leave."

" _I am trying!_ " Hermione thundered as she stood. "In case you've forgotten, I am pregnant with _twins_ , Severus!" She pressed her balled fists to her eyes to stop angry tears from falling, but felt them wetting her fingers anyway.

She took a deep shuddering breath before she continued, her husband's figure blurry through her tears. "That is two more mouths to feed, and I can't manage nursing four children!" she shouted. "Do you think I enjoy seeing her in distress? She is _our_ child, in case you've forgotten, and every time she cries like this I feel like I am _dying_ inside. But what am I supposed to do?"

"You are supposed to be her mother," Severus clipped, his voice completely devoid of sympathy.

"I am her mother!" Hermione's voice had risen to a scream. "I've done everything, _everything_ I could to do right by her and be the best at this that I can! Nursing has always been painful, but I endured because I thought it was what was best for her, because she is my priority. I did it for Carina, too, even though the pain only got worse. But now— I can't keep it up with the twins as well, and it'll be near impossible for me to keep up breastfeeding four children!"

"I suggest that you find a way—"

"DAMN YOU!" she screamed. "Damn you! You are being a bloody bastard and you know it. I cannot do it— I can barely do any of this! I've barely turned twenty-one and my third and fourth children are due in a little over a month!"

She paused to heave a breath, trying to ignore the way Emma's cries continued in the background. "I am trying my best, and I have to do this even though it's killing me to see her like this. So just —- let her cry. She'll eat eventually."

And with that she whirled and exited the room, her heart breaking the entire way.

 **X**

Hermione stumbled through the floo and into Parvati's foyer, collapsing on the ground in a heap of tears.

"'Mione?!" she heard the panicked cry, and looked up to see Ron approaching from the doorway, his jaw hanging open. Jasmine was on his hip and Ravi toddled behind them, his bright blue eyes alight with curiosity.

"H-hi," Hermione sobbed. "I'm sorry, I can't stop—"

She was shushed by two small hands gently petting her cheeks, and when she blinked through her tears to see Jasmine gently petting her cheeks, smearing the wetness of her tears.

"Thank you baby," Hermione hiccuped.

"Just tell me—" Ron started, eyes still roaming around her rapidly with concern. "Are you hurt? Is _anyone_ hurt?"

She shook her head. "N-no."

Ron nodded seriously. "Alright then. Let's get you to 'Vati."

Although tears continued to stream down her face, Hermione managed to wrinkle her nose at him. "Sh-she would _hate_ that nickname."

"Oh, she does." Hermione looked up to see Parvati scowling at Ron from the doorway for a quick moment and his answering smirk before Parvati's face melted into a mask of concern. "What's happened?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak and instead burst into tears once more. Parvati gathered her into her arms and she soon felt the familiar pull of apparition. They landed on something soft, and when Hermione finally stopped sobbing long enough to focus on her surroundings she realized that they were in Parvati's large bed, nestled into the fluffy white duvet.

"Talk to me," Parvati urged, wiping at Hermione's tears.

"I'm-so-overwhelmed," Hermione sobbed. "I don't know how to do this—any of it!"

Parvati ran a soothing hand up and down Hermione's shoulder. "Tell me— which part? The eight husbands? Two—no, four children? The Ministry being all the way up your arse?"

Hermione gave her a watery smile. "I've stopped nursing Emma and Carina," she said, stumbling over the lump that continued to rise higher in her throat as she recalled the way her daughter had been wailing incessantly for days. "Carina barely noticed. But Emma…she's been crying until she vomits, and she refuses to eat. I'm hurting my baby, Parvati, and it feels like I'm dying—" she choked of as her sobs started anew.

"You're a new mum," Parvati soothed. "Hell, I'm a new mum— the twins threw up a stink when I stopped nursing them."

Hermione sniffled. "You never mentioned it," she said.

"It was a dark time," Parvati said. "I cried along with them. It was so hard — I'm not trained in any of this but I feel like I should be."

"And that's just it — I'm a bloody Healer! I know she's fine but my heart is breaking regardless," Hermione said, trying to wipe at her tears although they continued falling in a steady stream. "I wasn't ready to be a mother yet, and I feel so guilty for even admitting it. My babies, they're—"

"—everything," Parvati finished for her. "Everything and more. The greatest joys of our lives, but unexpected ones nonetheless. It's alright to admit that."

"I just feel so guilty," Hermione hiccuped.

Parvati threw her head back and laughed. " _All_ mothers feel is guilty, woman. Don't think any less of yourself because of it!"

Hermione gave her a small, watery smile.

"And how are things with your husbands?"

Hermione tensed, then sighed. "They're…" she hesitated. "I don't know," she finally whispered.

Parvati gave her a searching look. "What's happened?"

"I—I don't even know where to start," she admitted. "Severus is such a _bloody_ bastard, for one."

Parvati smirked. "A given, I'd say."

"A bloody selfish bastard who—" she stopped herself, unable to ignore the guilty feeling that settled in her stomach.

"A bloody selfish bastard who you can't quite bad mouth because he's still your husband?" Parvati finished for her, a knowing glint in her eye.

Hermione nodded meekly.

"And the others?"

Hermione sighed. "Lucius is…impenetrable, most of the time. And Sirius still drinks sometimes, even though he tries to hide it from me. We got into an awful row when I caught him a few days ago and even though we made up, I can't stop thinking about it. And Arthur—" she choked over the name, "he's not… we're not…" she choked over the words.

"Shh," Parvati soothed, wiping away Hermione's tears. "I get it, I do," she said. "Hell, most days I want to hex _at least_ one of my husbands. How could I not? I have five bloody husbands!"

"I just— I feel so guilty sometimes," Hermione said. "I want to do things for all of them, be there for all of them— but when they're not being difficult there just isn't enough time," she lamented. "And I feel like I've been made a fit into a gap in some of their lives that is impossible for me to fit into."

"A part of this is about Mrs.— Molly, isn't it?" Parvati cringed at her stumble. "Sorry— habit."

"She is the true Mrs. Wealsey," Hermione said softly, looking away. "She always will be."

Parvati scooted closer until she could take Hermione's hands in hers. "What happened on Saturday?" she asked, her voice gentle with concern.

"How did you know?"

"I saw them disappear, and you never came back," she said. "And now…well, it's unlike you to leave without saying good-bye."

Hermione had, in fact, left rather abruptly after her conversation with Ginny. She'd locked herself in her rooms and threw up silencing charms before crying for hours, telling Pinky to inform Harry and Arthur that she'd left because she'd been feeling under the weather. She'd feigned sick since, and had been left mostly to her own devices by her husbands in the days since once she'd insisted that any hovering would only increase her stress.

"I just…I know how hard their separation has been," she answered finally. "And it kills me to know that I am at the center of it, even though neither of us had any choice in the matter."

"That's your problem, Hermione," Parvati said seriously. Hermione looked up to see Parvati sitting up straight, a determined look on her face. "You worry too much for them, about them."

"I don't always—"

"You do," Parvati insisted. "You do everything you can to be the best wife and mother you can be."

"It's still not enough," Hermione moaned, turning over to bury her face in a pillow.

Parvati tugged the pillow from beneath her, forcing Hermione to look up at her. "It is more than enough— gods, Hermione, you cycle through your husbands like clockwork, trying to balance your time between them. You bounce around, making sure no one's been neglected all while taking care of your children. And you can lie all you want, but you need to admit that it is _exhausting_ work. I can see it—" she gestured loosely at Hermione. "I can see how much it's dragging you down."

Hermione sighed, wiping at her face now that her tears had finally seemed to dry. Still, when she spoke her voice was small. "It'll never be enough."

"You have always been more than enough, done more than enough. But sometimes you have to put yourself first." Parvati smiled. "I admire you, to be honest. You cycle through all of them so diligently— even the ones who've been complete arses. The Marriage Law hasn't been easy on any of us," she said with a sigh. "You're not alone. _I_ for one know that I'll never be able to love all of my husbands equally. It doesn't mean that I don't cherish them all, but that's just how things are. Covington knows I'll never love him."

Hermione nodded, giving the other woman a sad look.

Parvati waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about me," she said. "I'm fine. My other husbands have accepted that I might always love Ron most, but they also know that it doesn't mean I can't come to love them in some form. We've fallen into our routine, but you…I can see it in your eyes, Hermione. You have the space for all of them in your heart, and you've been trying hard at it.

"I just…I want to be a good wife and mother, but can't help feeling like I'm failing at it sometimes, no matter how hard I try."

"And you now need to realize that you've done more than enough, and been more than enough. None of this has been easy, but godric if you haven't been trying your damned best to make it seem that way. All the sex, for example — it's _exhausting_ sometimes.

"Some days I lie there like a dead fish and let them go at it. I fell asleep on Lee last night, actually."

They both burst into a fit of giggles, and Parvati flopped down into the sea of plush pillows alongside Hermione.

"The Law's requirements have taken a toll on us all," Parvati said when they'd sobered. "I mean, you know as well as I that Ron and I did not expect our little Priya. But she's here, and she's beautiful, and I don't regret her at all. But...having her also means that I'm now up to two more children than I'd anticipated having before I got married, and I worry every day about how I'll be able to be fully present for all of my children."

"I fear that too," Hermione's voice was small.

"But—" Parvati reached out and took Hermione's hand, "there have been blessings to this unconventional setup. We all have helpful elves pouring out of our ears — _don't look at me like that_ — and the children have their fathers, too. Godric, my parents are happier now than they've been in years. I have little brothers and sisters, and it's beautiful."

Hermione nodded softly in agreement.

"What do you want right now, Hermione?" Parvati asked.

Hermione took a long minute to ponder. "I want… to work again," she answered. "I've missed it dearly, but have felt too guilty to return since Carina was born, and now I'm expecting the twins...but I still need it. It's a part of me."

"Fair," Parvati nodded. "And you need time to do what you love. And... you must have something else. Something _they_ can do, because you damn well deserve it."

Hermione thought hard. "I'd like them to start coming to me at night," she said. "Even though it was my request that I go to them. I feel like a harlot scurrying down the hall every morning. And I've been told as much by the portraits that it's been too tricky to hex into silence, actually."

Parvati burst into laughter. "That sounds entirely reasonable."

 **X**

"Mm," Sirius hummed as he inhaled deeply into her hair. "I quite like this." They were currently spooning in her bed, his hand splayed over her burgeoning belly.

"I do, too," she said. She rested her hand atop his and laced their fingers together, looking down at where their rings had shifted to a deep blue that appeared almost black in the dim moonlight that filtered through her window. She shifted in his arms until she faced him and ran a hand up over his muscled abdomen, letting it trail up until she cupped his cheek. "I can smell it on you," she said.

Even in the dim light, she saw the way his expression shuttered and he made to turn away. She grasped his arm before he could. "Don't," she begged. "I don't want to fight again. Please."

He looked away, although he did not move. "I'm just..ashamed. And sorry," he said. " _So_ sorry."

"Don't apologize," she whispered. She leaned up until she could place a gentle kiss on his forehead. "We all have our demons."

"And mine are just unfortunately grave," he quipped, although he did not laugh. "I have been trying, love, I swear it."

She cupped his cheek again, letting her finger drift over the hair along his jaw. "I know you have been, I believe you."

"It's just…" he trailed off, and she could hear the sadness in his voice.

"Recovery isn't linear," she reminded him. "And as your wife, I will be here for every step forward— and back."

Sirius shifted to face her better, and a small ray of moonlight illuminated his grey eyes, showing how they shone with emotion. "I love you— I love you more than words can express." He lifted her fingers to his lips, giving them gentle kisses.

"I _tell_ you how much I love you all the time," she answered. "And this is one of the many ways I can _show_ you. It all takes time and effort, but we will make it there," she promised.

"These boys," he ran a hand along her belly, "could be mine. And even if they're not, I want to be better for them. For them, and for Emma, and for Carina— and for you. You are my life, and I will spend the rest of my life showing you exactly what that means."

He kissed her then and she could feel the love and commitment he poured into it. She drank it in, pouring back everything she felt for him in return.

* * *

 **Thank you all for all the lovely reviews you guys always leave me - I can't put into words how happy they make me. It will be a while before chapter 41 comes out, unfortunately - expect it sometime in early August. Thank you all for bearing with me during this time, and I'll be sure to put in an A/N when my posting is going to get back to something more normal and consistent.**

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord sever: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	41. Chapter 41

**Thank you all for your patience! Here's a long chapter for you all. As always, so much love goes out to RESimon for betaing. You're amazing.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY-ONE**

"Harry, wait," Hermione wheezed.

Harry froze, peering over her bump to observe her expression. "Are you alright?"

"Well…"

Harry gave her a small smile. "Should we move again?"

Presently, they were both naked in her bed, and Harry had been thrusting into her steadily. She had asked him to roll her onto her back only minutes prior as they'd been trying in vain to find a position comfortable enough for him to get more than a few strokes in. They'd had no luck thus far.

"I'm sorry," she huffed as he helped her upright. "My breasts are suffocating me, and with the weight of my stomach…." she looked up at him apologetically. "I also think I need the loo. Again."

He laughed before he helped her up and she began to waddle back to the bathroom. "Harry," she chided without turning. "I know you're looking at my arse right now."

"I can't help it, it's fantastic," he grumbled, likely thinking she hadn't heard.

She giggled as she finally settled herself on the toilet, leaning back with a sigh. "It'll only be a minute!" she called through the door that was still slightly ajar.

Five minutes later, Harry knocked and peeked his head in. "Everything alright?" he asked.

Hermione groaned. "I swear I really thought I had to go," she said, giving him the umpteenth apologetic look of the evening. "Do you mind?"

He chuckled, pushing the door open further and padding over to over. Somehow, his cock was still hard, and she watched it bob along as he walked with unbridled lust.

His voice was low and seductive as he stopped in front of her. "How may I be of service, Mrs. Potter?"

Unable to resist, Hermione reached out and grabbed his cock, taking advantage of her current vantage point to give it a slow lick and suckle at his tip for a moment. He let out a low moan, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Mm," she hummed when she pulled back. "I think I'd like it back inside me now if you don't mind…?"

Harry helped her up with an enthusiasm so vibrant that she stumbled into him, trapping his cock between their bodies.

"I have an idea," Harry said as he watched her wash her hands. She met his eyes in the mirror and watched as he positioned her bump until it was perched gently atop the counter. He lifted one of her legs and stepped closer, sliding easily into her core.

" _Harry,_ " she moaned as he started thrusting. _Yes_ , she decided, this was the _perfect_ position. She caught herself in the mirror, taking in the way her mouth hung open as she panted and moaned, her breasts swaying gently as his thrusts increased.

His face was screwed in a determined look as he angled his thrusts even deeper, hitting a spot that had her coming hard in seconds, the liquid seeping out around his cock and leaking down her thighs. She trembled around him and felt her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she came hard, releasing the arousal that had been building up in her since they'd begun.

Harry pounded away all the while, chasing his own release while taking care not to jostle her too hard.

"Harry!" she cried, and he froze, his emerald eyes flying to meet hers in the mirror. "What is it?" his voice was strained.

"I have a cramp," she explained. "I'm so sorry."

Harry took a deep breath. "It's fine," he said, pulling out with a pained look. She turned to see his cock still hard and throbbing, its reddened tip peeking out of its velvety sheath.

"Bed?" she suggested.

Harry nodded eagerly before scooping her up and running them back into her bedroom. He helped her onto her hands and knees on the edge of the bed before plunging back into her without preamble. She felt his cock pulsing out his orgasm at the moment she started coming, her body overcome with shudders as another orgasm tore through her without warning.

"Hermione," Harry's tone caused her to twist around sharply.

"What?"

"Did your water just break?"

"Wha— no, I just—"

"YOUR WATER BROKE!" He shouted, running to the doors and tearing them open. "HERMIONE'S WATER BROKE!" she heard him shout into the hall as she scrambled off of the bed, waddling after him.

"Harry! It wasn't—"

She froze as Harry returned with Neville in tow, who was as bright-eyed as black-haired counterpart — who, as it were, was still completely starkers.

Neville's eyes widened as he took in Harry and Hermiones' appearances. "Shall we call the Healers? Although, maybe you two should—"

"My water didn't break!" She knew that her naked state did nothing to hide the deep flush that had taken over her body. "It's just, during this pregnancy, when I, erm, it's been a little, uhm…"

She saw realization dawn on both men at the same time. While Neville's expression morphed into a bemused smirk, Harry flushed a deep red that nearly matched the color of the tip of his cock that was only partially deflated. While Neville dissolved into guffaws, Harry scrambled to where he'd discarded his clothing at the foot of her bed.

"Uhm, a robe, if you don't mind?" Hermione flushed at the way Neville scan her nakedness appreciatively. He summoned her a robe, still looking her over with a heated glint in his eye. He then turned to give the naked pair privacy and call off the others who might have heard Harry's proclamation, chuckling all the while.

 **X**

Hermione plucked at her hair, trying — in vain — to find where the intricate braids Pinky had done her hair in that day began. Despite the elf having taken only seconds to perfect the updo, it had been several minutes since she'd begun plucking away at it with her swollen fingers. She'd tried to undo it with her wand, only to have it instead send a large spray of water across her bathroom floor. She dropped her arms in frustration, realizing then that the tie on her satin dressing gown had come undone yet again, sliding open to reveal the heavy bulge of her stomach that pressed against the deep red slip she wore beneath. It had been charmed to accommodate her pregnancy perfectly. She sighed as she took in her bump that was cradled in the lush material before she caught her own eyes in the mirror.

Without her having even requested it, Pinky had begun waving her wand an extra time to apply a layer of makeup that concealed the bags that had formed under her eyes. Still, even the elf's expert ability hadn't been able to conceal the look in her eyes. She looked haggard. She was exhausted and felt stretched too thin over all that had occurred of late. She reminded herself of Parvati's words, knowing that she needed to sit down and—

As the thought of him passed through her mind, she froze as she looked into the mirror to see that none other than Arthur had materialized in her bathroom doorway. Although their eyes had met, neither uttered a word for a few long moments. In his eyes, she saw the same look she'd seen reflected in her own. He looked as haggard as she, still clad in his Ministry-issued robes and clutching his fraying briefcase. She'd barely seen him since the Weasley family gathering, having withdrawn from going to see him on his nights altogether. He often left for work before breakfast began and returned late after dinner.

Part of her ached for him, but a much larger part kept her firmly rooted to the spot she stood in, and she caught the hurt look in his eyes as she let her own expression harden.

"Magic misfiring again?" he asked as he cleaned up the mess she'd made with a quick flick of his wand, his voice as gentle as ever. "How are you?"

"Well." Her voice was stiff.

"And the children?" His voice was overly cordial, skirting around the tension that brewed in the room.

Hermione didn't answer and instead gripped the white marble countertop hard, its pristine color a sharp contrast to her scarlet-painted nails.

He didn't break the silence that had descended, likely having sensed the way she was searching for the words she wanted to speak.

"They could be yours," she said through gritted teeth when she finally spoke. "They could be yours, so why—" she took a shuddering breath, feeling her chest constricting, "why are you doing this to me?"

"Hermione, I…" he trailed off, and she whirled to meet his eyes, seeing the sadness shining in them.

"You don't— you don't get to look at me like that, not after what you've put me through."

He nodded, searching her eyes for a moment. "You heard us that night, then."

Her answering silence spoke volumes.

"You know that I never meant to hurt you," he said.

"Then _why did you?_ " Hermione snapped. "Actually— don't—" she took in a sharp breath as she recalled the way she'd caught the easy intimacy between them that night, "don't answer that. Just—"

"Please don't send me away." His tone was pleading, and when she met his eyes she saw the regret shining there.

"I can't replace her," Hermione said. "I won't ever be her. You had _decades_ , and we have— I don't even know what we have," she admitted quietly.

" _You_ are my wife," he said, stepping into the bathroom and reaching out for her.

" _Don't."_ She stormed past him and into her bedroom, stopping at one of the sprawling windows. She felt him approach behind her, although he kept a safe distance. His figure was blurred in the window behind her, and she couldn't quite make out his expression. A part of her dimly hoped his expression looked as heartbroken as she felt, but she couldn't muster the courage to turn and check.

"You say I'm your wife," she said as she broke the long silence, "but I feel as though I don't even know you — like I'll _never_ know you. I don't even know why you've been coming home from work this late for months now. If you've even been at work, that is—" She cut herself off as she sucked in another sharp breath, trying to shove down the memories of the easy closeness she'd seen between Arthur and Molly that night.

"I'm being promoted," he answered quickly.

At that, she could not help turning to him. "What?"

He nodded, tugging at his robes. "It isn't quite official yet, but I'm actually being promoted to Deputy Minister for Magic."

" _What?_ " Hermione's mind reeled with the information. Her heart jumped, urging her to leap into his arms in celebration as she would have only a short time ago. But above that, she felt a deep ache. They were married, yet she had not known even this. The distance that had been steadily growing between them since his encounter with her father widened further, and she made to turn away when she felt his hand upon her shoulder. She shook him off almost instinctively, but not before she caught the pained look flash across his face.

"What can we be, if I don't even know these things about you?" she whispered.

"Hermione—"

"Would you go back to her, if you could?" This time Hermione turned her head fully to him, searching his eyes as she sought the answer in them. She knew that it could break her heart, but also knew that she needed to know — desperately.

"I would not." His voice was unwavering, but it did nothing to banish the seed of doubt that flourished within her.

"Why?" Her voice trembled. "Is it because you no longer have the choice, so you've banished the thought? Or is it because—"

"It's because I want _you,_ Hermione."

"So your entire conversation with her meant nothing, then?" Hermione scoffed, realizing that she'd been instinctively rubbing her belly for some time now, trying to calm the children of the stress she'd brought upon them. "I'm upset because I'm your wife now, and you broke my heart while trying to comfort _her_. I could be carrying your children, but it feels like your commitment is only halfway with me — with _us_ — right now."

"Hermione—"

"But I can't even be this upset, can I?" Hermione continued, cutting him off. "I'm your wife, but only in the strictest sense of the word. I can't control my father or how he's acted, and I'll never be able to explain how sorry I am about all that's transpired but it'll never be enough to encompass this entire situation. You have to share me with seven other men, yet I'm heartbroken over seeing you with the woman that you were forced to leave for me. But I can't help it, I can't, even though I know how selfish it is—"

She cut off abruptly as Arthur wrapped his arms around her waist. His hands were atop hers upon her bump, and his face was buried in her shoulder. "Please don't push me away," he said into the skin of her neck. " _Please._ "

"Arthur…" she looked down at their intertwined hands, wondering feebly if she was carrying his sons. She wanted to tell him to leave yet never wanted him to let go.

"Hermione…you are my wife now, in every sense, I swear it."

Hermione tensed, resisting the urge to melt back into his soothing touch. "How can I be? All we do is have sex. And ' _sex does not a relationship make,_ '" she could not mask the bitter edge that had crept into her voice as she quoted his own words back to him.

"Do you truly believe that all we have is sex?" His voice was tinged with hurt. "Hermione—" he turned her to him, cupping her cheeks. "You are so much more to me than a sexual partner, I swear it."

"How can I believe you?" she whispered.

"When I arrive home in the evenings, more often than not, you'll greet me at the floo. If you do not, you'll come to my rooms even if just to greet me and give me a quick kiss whilst bouncing Emma or Carina on your hip before you have to run off. You never miss a moment to ask me how I've been, to ask after the entire family. You spread yourself so thin yet do your utmost to give me quality time, no matter how short your time is.

"Truthfully, I had expected to live my life somewhat solitarily after my remarriage. I thought I would end up with a witch who was disinterested in the law, or who would prefer her younger husbands over I. But you, Hermione… you've given me so much more than I knew I'd wanted, or needed."

She let him turn her gently until she faced him, and not a moment later his hand was upon her chin, tugging it up until she looked at him. "When you look at me, what do you see?"

She searched his eyes, seeing the kind familiarity she had grown so used to reflected in them. She let her eyes sweep over his features, taking in the smattering of stubble across his jaw to the slight curl of his tousled hair, and back down to the smile lines that were etched into his handsome features.

"When I look at you, I see a beautiful, caring woman who has opened her life and her heart to me although she was under no obligation to do so," he brushed a quick kiss across her lips, "I see the future mother of my children, and the woman I've chosen to spend the rest of my life dedicated to, no matter what the Ministry says." He lowered his lips to plant slow kisses along her jaw and down to her collarbone, each kiss leaving her skin heated in its wake.

"Arthur," she moaned as he moved from kissing her cleavage back up to the most sensitive spots on her neck.

She felt him smile into her skin. "Is sex truly all we have?" his voice had lowered to a whisper as he brushed aside one of the thin straps of her nightgown to kiss along her should more fully.

"Please," she whimpered. Her body heated slowly with need, and she felt his every touch acutely. His hands were firmly on her hips, and she longed for him to move them anywhere — _everywhere_ — else.

"What we have," his words intermittently peppered with his slow kisses, "is the intimacy of a true couple. How else would I know exactly what this—" he ran two fingers up her dress and long her hip in a way that never failed to make her shudder, "does to you?"

She forced herself to blink her eyes open in order to meet his own, seeing that they were as blown with lust as her own. "I want you, Arthur."

"And I you," he whispered, "let me show you how much."

And so she did.

 **X**

Hermione read the same line in her book for the sixth time, sighing as she realized that she had yet to absorb what was being said. Muted sunlight was streaming in through the library's towering windows, highlighting the sofa she had settled into perfectly. Her sons, however, appeared to be having a boxing match in her belly which significantly soured her mood. She placed the book down on the side table beside her with a sigh before straining to see her feet. It was of no use, as her bump now hid them completely from view. Her feet throbbed relentlessly, and she eyed where her wand lay on the side table beside the book with longing. It held little more use than a stick at this point, as this particular pregnancy had caused even random bouts of wandless magic of no prompting of her own. No, even touching her wand would be a bad idea, she knew. Instead, she settled for attempting to swing herself over until her legs were propped awkwardly upon a throw pillow.

Just as she was attempting to toe one of the pillows into place, she squealed as a swath of black suddenly appeared before her. She raised surprised eyes to see none other than Severus before her, frowning at where her feet were propped.

She scowled at him. "If you want me to move them, you'll just have to find somewhere el—" She yelped as he lifted her feet suddenly before sliding into the spot they had been in and depositing them on his lap. He began kneading her feet with surprisingly gentle hands, still scowling at her feet. She stiffened immediately. He turned his scowl on her and they stared each other down for a moment until she huffed, letting her feet relax into his hands. He started massaging them again, all the while not saying a word.

It was silent until she let out a low moan, letting herself relax back into the cushions. His hands were heavenly, working out the tension in her swollen feet that had been present for nearly a month straight. "Mmm," she moaned again, "is this your way of apologizing?"

He said nothing and continued to massage deeper into her skin.

"I appreciate this, but your apology is still not accepted."

He stopped his ministrations then, and she quirked open an eye to see his scowl directed at her once again.

"You have incredible fingers," she continued as she let her eyes flutter shut once again, "but you're shite at apologies."

He paused again and she ground her heel into his thigh until he picked it up and started massaging it again. "What do you want, witch?" His voice was strained, and she resisted the urge to let laugh at his obvious discomfort.

"Tell me — are you here because Emma's eating again, or because you are genuinely sorry for being a bloody prat and distressing your _pregnant wife_ —"

He huffed sharply, and she could feel his glare fixated upon the bemused smile that played upon her lips. Again, he volunteered no answer but instead continued to massage her feet more thoroughly, causing her to let out another pleased moan.

"What's happened to our daughter?" Hermione frowned, opening her eyes to meet Severus'. "She now refuses to eat anything but filet mignon with little bits of black truffle sprinkled on top. What have we done to her?"

Severus didn't answer, but instead raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the lavish library they were seated in.

At that, Hermione let out a genuine laugh. "I wouldn't want to give her any other life, though," she admitted, feeling her heart warm as she thought of how Emma and her siblings would want for nothing as they grew up.

"She will never want for anything," Severus said quietly. "I swear it."

"I know," she said, observing the fierce adoration reflected in his eyes.

"I've assigned the vaults of the Prince Estate in her name," he said. He registered the surprise in her expression and nodded. "The estate transfers through the male bloodline unless it is specifically bequeathed otherwise. It is not insignificant, and she will never want for anything."

"Thank you, Severus," she whispered, giving him a soft smile.

"It will be modified if…" He trailed off, gesturing at her belly.

She smiled again. "Would you like to feel them?" she asked, searching his eyes tentatively. She feared his rejection, knowing it was something he hadn't once done when she was pregnant with Emma. His eyes were guarded, but he eventually gave her a slow nod and reached out, letting her take his hand in hers. She roved their joined hands around her stomach until she settled them on the spot where she'd last felt them moving.

As if on cue, one of the boys kicked their hands hard. "There," she said quietly, watching his expression. "Do you feel him?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, snatching his other hand to press it against the other side of her belly. "There's the other one!"

She watched as he looked down at where his hands were planted firmly on either side of her belly. There was a slight jump in his jaw at each kick the boys gave, and his expression softened further with each movement.

"Severus," she murmured after a while. He looked up at her, his expression more relaxed than she'd seen it in quite some time. "I know that the way our union came together was...unconventional, but if we are to make co-parenting work, then you need to realize that there are many, many more things we will need to compromise on in the future. I want to work on them with you, if you are willing."

He appraised her for a moment before giving a slow nod. "I am," he answered finally, and she smiled in return.

"I haven't forgiven you yet, by the way," she continued, "but I will if you grant me one thing."

He sighed, raising an eyebrow.

"A kiss," she said, her eyes flicking down to his lips.

His eyes rose slowly to meet hers, and she wondered if he would use that opportunity to reject her. Instead, he surprised her by leaning forward and swiftly capturing her bottom hip between his. She melted into the kiss, letting out a low moan. At her moan, he pressed forward closer until he was flush with her bump. One of his hands came up to cup a heavy breast, and she gasped into his kiss, urging him for more. She felt him smirk before proceeding to pull down the strap of her sundress and expose the breast fully. Normally, she would have flushed at the exposure of her braless state, but at that moment she could think of nothing more than how his talented fingers kneaded expertly at her breast—

There was sudden wetness between them, and when he pulled back her jaw dropped as she realized that he'd inadvertently sprayed himself with her breast milk. She gaped for a moment at the way the whiteness of it dripped comically down his onyx robes before she giggled.

"I'm so sorry!" She clapped a hand over her mouth but could not stop the peals of laughter from escaping. "You just— I'm so sorry," she babbled through continued laughter. "I've ruined the moment, haven't I?"

He was scowling, but she spied a glint in his eyes nonetheless. His lips were upon hers again a moment later, which helped stop her laughter almost immediately.

"Oh," she said when he pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips. "What was that for…?"

He smirked wider. "Consider that my apology," he said before disapparating.

 **X**

Hermione's fork shook slightly as she lifted it to her lips with a trembling hand, subtly peeking around the table to see if any of her husbands had noticed. It was Sunday morning brunch, and all of her husbands had gathered for the meal. Oftentimes at least one would be absent for one reason or another, but, as her luck would have it, all had unfortunately decided to be present on that day. Normally, this would not have been a cause for issue, except on this particular day Hermione very much wished for the meal to be over as promptly as possible. She had been quietly enjoying her eggs benedict when she'd dropped her fork suddenly, letting it clatter to her plate. She'd answered her husbands' concerned questions with a forced smile and an apology and had ducked her head down since, lest they catch her flaming expression.

Things, of course, were certainly _not_ well. A sudden inferno of lust had crashed over her, completely unbidden. While she'd experienced the same thing during her previous pregnancies, she hadn't experienced anything like _this._ It consumed her every atom until her skin felt ablaze with it. It neared the level of desperate lust she'd experienced when they'd first been bonded, and the only difference in this instance was that she was utterly and completely unprepared for it.

Her cunt dripped a steady stream of liquid down her thighs, soaking her knickers thoroughly. She could feel it coating her thighs, and she rubbed them together to relieve some of the tension. This, of course, only made it worse.

She needed to finish her meal and depart, she decided. Perhaps she could make enough eye contact with one of her husbands long enough to signal him to follow her upstairs _right now_ …

She looked up at where Neville sat across from her. He was slicing his sausage, and she found her eyes straying to his long fingers, thinking of how incredible they would feel buried deep inside her. She licked her lips involuntarily, running her eyes up tan forearms that were exposed by his rolled-up sleeves, up to his shoulders, then his chiseled jaw…

It was then that she noticed that he was watching her, his mouth hanging open slightly. "Hermione," he asked carefully, scanning her with concern, "are you alright?"

"You're looking a little peaky, love," Sirius chimed in, and Harry nodded sharply beside him.

"Should we call Healer Johnson?" Draco asked, his grey eyes sharp with concern.

"N-no," she stammered. She shook her head slightly, hoping to shake off the lust-crazed expression she'd likely adopted. "I'm fine, I promise. Just a little hot." Immediately, several cooling charms were cast over her from around the room, and she threw grateful smiles around at them.

The charms had done nothing to quell the true source of her heat, of course. It pulsed through her stronger than ever, and she swore she could smell herself. No, remaining at the table would not do. She readied herself to return to her rooms and search for the box of unmentionables she kept hidden deep in her lingerie closet when a hand slid over her thigh, causing her to jump. Mercifully, only Arthur caught the movent and she waved his concerned look off with what she hoped was a pacifying smile. She waited until he went back to his breakfast before turning a shocked look to the owner of the hand.

Severus continued to eat his breakfast casually, spearing a sausage with ease before chewing slowly. His eyes remained trained on his plate, but she caught the ghost of a smirk on his lips as his hand began massaging her thigh with more certain movements. With each stroke, his long fingers curled deeper into her inner thigh, sending pleasurable tingles across her skin with his every movement. She could not move no matter how much her rational side urged her to leave before anyone else took notice of what he was doing. Instead, she let his fingers glide higher, and higher still, until the tips of his fingers brushed tantalizingly over her clothed core.

The blaze within her swelled, urging her to press deeper into his touch, to hike up her robes and—

As if sensing her need, she looked down with her jaw hanging slightly open as she saw her robes slowly splitting open down the middle. She could not see where it stopped due to her bump, but rather felt where it flapped open just above the waistband of her knickers. Her knickers, which, only a moment later, disappeared completely. She whipped her head to look at Severus, her jaw still hanging open slightly. If Kingsley looked toward her then, he would see her exposed cunt, and Severus' fingers combing expertly through her nest of curls.

She snapped her head back toward her plate, knowing her face was flaming. She could not draw any more attention to herself, she knew, and instead opted to lift her glass of juice with a shaky hand. She had only managed a gulp when he began rubbing at her clit with determined, practiced movements. She choked on her drink, drawing all eyes at the table to her once again.

"M'fine," she mumbled, taking up her glass of water and sucking down a large sip for good measure. Severus' hand had disappeared as swiftly as it had come, and he picked up his own glass of water and drank it slowly. She could see her juices shining softly in the light that streamed through the windows, yet he was nonchalant all the same.

The several moments it took for her other husbands to look back at their plates felt like an eternity. Hermione's eyes had immediately gone to Kingsley's, her heart racing as she hoped desperately for his eyes not to stray downward any further than they had. Blessedly, he gave her a smile and a nod and went back to his meal. She turned back to the glass of water she still clutched in her hand, about to attempt to set it down again when she felt a set of eyes upon her. She turned to her other side to where Lucius sat at the head of the table, his grey eyes steadily trained upon her. It was at that moment, of course, that Severus chose to plunge his deft fingers back into her core.

Her orgasm crashed over her swiftly, and she let out of stuttered moan, barely garnering the sense to lean forward and let her hair cover her flaming cheeks.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. "Are you alright?"

"Is it time?" Neville asked. "Do we need to floo you to St. Mungo's?"

She managed to twist her features into a semblance of a grimace. "It's just a phantom contraction," she wheezed out, this time letting her next moan tumble out fully as her cunt continued to spasm around Severus' fingers. She cast a panicked look at Kingsley, who was scanning her body concernedly. But of course — Severus had cast a spell disillusioning their lower halves. "It'll pass," she managed, her voice somewhat truthful as, in that moment, her orgasm finally passed. Her seat was soaked, as was part of the floor. Finally, Severus removed his fingers from her core, causing her to sigh equally in relief and because of the loss of contact.

It was then that Lucius cleared his throat loudly. She swung panicked eyes to him, her heart racing at the sight of the smirk that danced upon his lips. All eyes were upon him, yet his were upon hers as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Do excuse me," he said finally, standing to depart.

She did not miss the laughter that danced in his eyes as he departed.

 **X**

Evening was rapidly descending upon the Manor, and Hermione stepped back into the Manor with Carina nestled in her arms, fast asleep. Hermione had taken the infant on a long walk to until she'd finally fallen asleep. Hermione's arms had begun to ache from how long she'd been holding the infant, and she hurried across the Entrance Hall, eager to tuck her daughter into bed. As she passed one of the drawing rooms, however, she heard low voices emanating from it that made her pause and creep closer until she could peek inside. When the two men inside came into clearer focus, she froze.

It was none other than Draco and her father. Her father held a sleeping Emma in his arms, and he held her close while Draco sat across from them, watching them intently.

"Thank you for bringing her," her father said in a low voice, planting a gentle kiss on Emma's head.

Draco nodded but said nothing.

Hermione melted back into the shadows, holding Carina tightly to her chest.

"I want to see her, but..." her father trailed off, his voice breaking slightly over the words.

"She will see you, if you choose to go to her. She would never deny you."

Her father nodded, and she spied the tears that shone in his eyes in the low firelight. "How is she? And...your sister?"

"They're well." Draco's voice was stiff.

Her father cleared his throat. "I understand that...that day… was quite a shock for you as well."

Draco let out a short snort. "You could say so."

"How have you been coping?" her father's voice was laced with sadness.

"As well as I can," Draco answered after a long pause. "I have to be — for her, and the twins."

"Whoever their father may be?"

She heard a shuffle, then Draco's determined voice. "Whoever he may be."

"Even if they're your father's— again?" her father pressed.

Hermione imagined Draco's hands curling into tensed fists that matched the tone of his voice. "Yes," he ground out. "Please do not press the issue."

"How can I not?" Hermione's father answered. "How can you stand it, having to deal with this situation?"

"It is...unconventional," Draco answered slowly. "But I've dealt with it every day for well over a year now—"

"But do you _want_ to deal with it?"

"All I _want_ is her," Draco snapped. "She— she's all that matters to me, and I would hope that her happiness all that matters to you, too."

"How can she be happy like this?" her father retorted. "I am her _father_ —"

"It killed me," Draco interjected. "It still kills me a little every day, seeing that the child I'd thought was mine for months is _his_ instead. It isn't her— it was never, will never be her. But I still can barely touch her belly sometimes, knowing how attached I was last time only to see the fates turn on me in the cruelest way. I can't — I can't endure "

"If you hate your father so much, why would you let him marry Hermione, chain her to this—"

"He would never hurt her," Draco said sharply. "She is his wife and the mother of his child, and he respects that wholly, even though he can be a cold man."

It was silent for a long moment.

"I know that you are well-bred, Draco, but it does not mean that my reservations about him will ever go away."

"They shouldn't," Draco answered gruffly. "But I can give you my word that his...misgivings will never come down on her again."

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath before immediately clapping a hand over her mouth, hoping her father hadn't absorbed the gravity of his last word.

But of course, he had. "Again?" he answered sharply.

"Their...differences, are in the past," Draco answered.

"What differences?" her father pressed.

"Differences that make no difference in their marriage now," Draco answered, as elusive as ever. Hermione almost scoffed aloud, recalling the explosive encounter they'd had on the subject only months prior. She knew all too well how her father's heart would break if he'd known about how she'd all but clawed her way into the state of semi-peacefulness they had now.

" _Tell me the truth!_ " her father snapped, his voice rising an octave. "Did he— did he have anything to do with the scar on her arm?"

"No," Draco answered, and Hermione wondered if anyone would think it a lie considering how closely attenuated Lucius had been to the situation.

"Did _you_?"

There was a long pause. "No," Draco answered finally.

"But you could have stopped it," her father's voice was quiet, knowing.

When Draco didn't answer, she longed to peek around the corner again, wondering if they were exchanging a long, hard, look on the verge of throwing fists. Or perhaps silent tears had begun streaming down Draco's cheeks at the broaching of one of the few subjects she knew would make him cry. Or maybe—

"I forgive you," her father's voice was low, but still carried to her ears. "I can see your pain and anguish, and I know that you love her with all that you have. You always have."

"I love her, more than words can express," Draco answered, his voice broken.

"I forgive you, Draco. And I thank you for loving and protecting my daughter so wholly."

"I'm not the only one who loves her so," Draco answered after a long silence.

"I know," her father's voice was barely above a whisper. "I've just had a hard time accepting it all. But in time..."

"In time," Draco agreed.

* * *

 **Next up — twins! Finally, am I right?**

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord sever: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	42. Chapter 42

**Thank you all for your patience. As always, so many thanks go to RESimon for beta'ing.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY-TWO**

"Have you thought of any names, Neville?"

Neville looked up at Arthur at his question, his mouth still full of sausage that he'd only put into it a moment before. "Erm," he said, swallowing loudly. "I was thinking maybe Frank, and, erm…" he trailed off, looking at Hermione in question.

Hermione smiled into her mug, taking a long sip before she spoke. "Well, some of the names you've chosen are a bit…" she trailed off with a giggle.

"I spend my days dealing with plants whose names are either in Latin or appear to have been pulled out of someone's arse," he shrugged.

At that, there was a round of laughter from several of the table's occupants. Severus continued to eat in silence as though the others weren't present, while Draco was quiet but unmoving. Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand underneath the table, and he gave her a light squeeze back although he did not relax his rigid stance.

"What about you, Harry?" Arthur asked.

Hermione smiled. "James Sirius, wasn't it?"

Sirius beamed from beside Harry. "Really?" his eyes were shining as he looked at Harry.

Harry, however, was looking away, his mouth twisted in a pensive frown. "I don't suppose James Sirius really applies anymore now, does it?"

Sirius gaped at him. " _Why?_ Because I'm _alive?!"_

It was then that Harry caught his godfather's gobsmacked expression. Harry gave him a sheepish look. "I mean…"

Hermione covered her ensuing giggle.

"I heard that," Sirius grumbled, stabbing his eggs with entirely more force than was strictly necessary.

"So what _will_ you name them then, if they're yours?" Neville asked, and Sirius perked up and watched Harry intently.

At that, Hermione's smile turned into a full-blown smirk. "What was your other name? Albus Severus, wasn't it?"

" _ALBUS SEVERUS?!"_ Sirius boomed.

Hermione burst into laughter as even Severus looked up, his usually stoic expression containing a note of surprise.

"What the hell have those two bastards ever done for you?!"

Severus' eyes flashed. "I would implore you not to insult me in my own—"

Harry mumbled something then that caused Severus to cut off completely, while Sirius somehow managed to look even more enraged. "BRAVE?! This one—" Sirius jerked a thumb in Severus' direction "—has had a gigantic stick up his arse for _decades_ , and don't even get me started on the other one who left you in the hands of—"

Sirius' tirade faded into the background as Hermione caught Draco's tensed body. His knuckles were white from how hard he gripped his fork, and the muscle in his neck that always jumped when he was deeply stressed was nearly spasming.

She folded a gentle hand over his thigh, caressing it softly. He tensed further for a moment before turning to look at her. There was a small, reassuring smile plastered on his lips, but he could not mask the anguish that swirled in his silver eyes. She'd thrice tried to broach the subject, and thrice been brushed off. He'd feigned being alright, but she could see the conflict and anguish in his eyes every time he reassured her that he was fine. He'd been present but distant throughout her pregnancy, and her heart clenched at the reminder of the broken look she'd often caught in his eyes when he thought she wasn't looking.

"I love you," she mouthed.

The weight that had settled on her chest lifted slightly as she caught his eyes soften. "I love you too," he mouthed back. He caught her hand in his, squeezing it gently.

Hermione's smile turned into a pained wheeze as she was struck by a sudden sharp pain in her abdomen. Her mug clattered to the table, spilling hot tea across the remains of her breakfast.

Instantly, all eyes were on her.

"Hermione?" Neville asked. "Is it—?"

"Ye-s," Hermione shuddered out as the pain of the contraction persisted.

"I'll Floo St. Mungo's," Harry rushed as he disappeared through the doorway.

Her grip tightened on Draco's hand as she pressure worsened for a moment before it started to subside.

"Knobby!" Draco snapped, and the aging elf appeared instantly.

"Yes, master?" he asked.

"Floo Healer Johnson— _now!"_

"Let's get you up." Kingsley's voice was soothing, and he and Draco helped her stand.

They made it only a few steps before Hermione's breath started coming in short pants as another contraction hit her.

"That's— too soon," Neville's voice raised an octave. He hovered in front of her, looking anxiously from his watch to Hermione. "It was four—maybe five minutes apart."

"It's—alright," she said through gritted teeth. "I just need to make it through the floo." She took a determined step forward and stumbled immediately under the pain of the lingering contraction.

"56 seconds," Sirius noted, frowning at his watch. "Love, maybe we should—"

"I am not giving birth on a damned sofa _again!"_ Hermione snapped. Her steps were more determined this time, and she managed to wrench her arms from where Draco and Kingsley held her as she stormed toward the hall.

She made it only a dozen steps down the hall before Lucius appeared before her, his arms crossed as he looked between her and the rest of her husbands that hovered behind her as she stormed down the hall.

"I have been informed that you are in labor," he said, his silver eyes flicking down to her oversized belly, "yet you appear to be… gallivanting?"

Hermione glared. " _Move._ I am not—" she stumbled as another contraction hit her, and found herself gathered in multiple sets of arms and carried into a room where she was deposited upon what appeared to be a transfigured bed. One of her husbands settled behind her, holding her gently propped up as she whimpered through the pain.

When the fog of pain lifted enough for her to focus on her surroundings, she realized that they were in the drawing room — again.

"No, no, _no_ —" she chanted, attempting to swing her legs off the bed.

She was stopped almost immediately no fewer than three sets of hands settling her back upon the bed.

" _Hermione."_ Harry stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

" _Harry,"_ Hermione mocked as she attempted to swing herself off the bed once more, only to be stopped by a hard wall of muscle that she recognized as Kingsley.

"It has to happen here," Harry said. He reached down to rub one of her feet soothingly, and she snatched it away.

"Hermione," Arthur said from where he held her up. "We'll be fine—"

She missed the rest of his words as another contraction hit, the pain taking her breath away. "I-need-the-spell," she wheezed, tearing at where her robes bulged over her belly.

There was a beat of silence and Hermione looked around to see several of her husbands looking between her face and where she'd managed to tear open the delicate buttons on her robes from her bosom down.

"It's nothing you all haven't seen before," she grumbled.

Sirius laughed at that. "Got quite the exhibitionist streak, haven't you? Normally, I'd buy you dinner first..."

"Spell, please," she deflected, throwing a rude gesture at Sirius that only caused him to laugh harder.

Arthur's wand was at her back not a moment later, and she felt a cool trickle of relief start to spread from her spine outward as he mumbled the incantation.

Only a moment after Arthur settled her back into her propped position in his arms did Severus appear with a vial of burgundy potion in his hand. "I've engineered a new potion that should work even in this late stage," he explained. "You are not the only witch who has been suffering with issues of...prematurity," he said.

She let him tip it to her lips before sighing as relief trickled down through her chest to meet the tendrils of relief the spell Arthur had cast. The pain of the next contraction, however, was only lessened by a fraction.

Hermione ground her teeth together until the pain passed.

Neville stepped between her thighs and peeked over her bump at her. "That was three minutes. Do you mind—?"

Hermione shook her head and bit her lip as he ducked down with a determined look on his face.

It took only seconds for her to grow impatient. "Well?"

When he came back up, he was frowning. "Eight centimetres," he announced.

" _Already?"_ Harry worried a hand through his already unruly hair as he started to pace.

Severus snatched Harry by the shoulder, stilling him. "You are bound to worry a hole through my patience as well as the floor if you continue, Mr. Potter," he snapped.

"Agreed," Lucius flicked an irritated look in Harry's direction.

Harry glared back at them.

Hermione cursed under her breath and groaned, leaning back into Arthur. He started to rub her arms and back soothingly, but it did nothing to quell the pain of the next contraction.

"How are you feeling, love?" Sirius asked, taking up her hand and kissing her knuckles.

Hermione pulled her hand back, scowling as she attempted to cross her arms over her chest. "Ready for this to be _over_."

Several of her husbands raised eyebrows at her sharp tone, and her scowl deepened. "You try pushing _four_ children out of your—"

Hermione was cut off by the sound of the floo roaring to life. Healer Browne stepped out, dusting off her lime-green Healer robes. "Healer Granger," she greeted with a smile. "And family," she added, smiling at Hermione's husbands. "How are you feeling?"

A contraction hit her hard before she could respond, the increased tension causing her to double over. By the time she was able to look up again, Healer Browne had taken Neville's seat between her thighs and was gently casting a series of spells over her.

Hermione glared at her bump. "You two," she gave her bump a light poke, "have overstayed your welcome."

Harry stifled his ensuing laugh when Hermione directed her glare at him.

"Ten centimetres," Healer Browne smiled as she peeked around Hermione's bump at her. "Ready?"

"More than—" Hermione stopped short as her eyes landed upon Draco. He had been standing in the far corner of the room, quiet and rigid. When her searching eyes met his, she reached out a hand until he crossed over tentatively and took her hand. The room had gone silent during the exchange, and it wasn't until he was by her side that the tension seemed to melt away.

Hermione gave Healer Browne a small nod and a smile. "Let's meet your sons," she announced.

"Whomever's they may be," Sirius quipped, and Hermione managed to give him a weak swat on the shoulder as another contraction hit.

"Push!" Healer Browne encouraged.

Hermione bore down with all her strength until she was heaving for breath. Kingsley mopped her brow with a small rag, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead.

She flopped back into Arthur's arms. "Is he out yet?"

Healer Browne chuckled. "Not quite," she said.

"Is _anything_ out yet?" she pleaded.

"I think I see hair!" Harry was bent between her legs behind Healer Browne, and every one of her husbands immediately craned their necks to see.

"Well?!" Draco snapped, looking decidedly anxious. "What color is it?"

"It's...pink?" Harry answered slowly. "Well, _everything's_ pink right now, really—"

There was a collective groan from around the room.

"Away!" Hermione jerked a finger to the bedside.

There was a hint of laughter in Healer Browne's voice as she spoke. "Another push," she encouraged.

Hermione pushed until she cried out.

"A head!" Neville exclaimed triumphantly. "Half of one at least—and still pink, actually—"

" _Neville,"_ Hermione snapped.

Neville gave her a sheepish smile before moving off to stand beside Harry.

"What he _means_ to say is that we're getting there, love," Sirius soothed over Neville and Harry's continued whispers, where she was almost certain that she'd just heard the word "metamorphmagus". Sirius gave them both swats on the head, while Lucius and Severus looked on as though they wished to do nothing but the same.

"Another push!" Healer Browne urged. The room filled with cries as she did, and Hermione craned her neck over her bump to see her son.

"Just one more," Healer Browne encouraged.

" _Another?"_ Hermione snapped.

As she bore down once more, she reached between her legs and caught her screaming son in her arms as he slid out. She held him up triumphantly, beaming at him as silent tears streaked down her cheeks. "Isn't he perfect?" she said, beaming at the squirming infant.

It was then that she noticed that the room had gone silent.

She peeked around the infant in her arms to see her husbands gaping at her, shock plastered on their faces. Even Lucius' eyes had widened a fraction, and he stared at the squirming babe in her arms.

Hermione blinked at them. "What?"

" _Salazar_ , Granger—"

"Did you just _pull_ your child out of your—"

Healer Browne laughed at her husbands' reactions. "That always gives the men a good shock."

She waved her wand and sever the umbilical cord that still hung between them before holding out her arms for the child. "Uhm, perhaps I should…?"

"Oh," Hermione said. "Right." Her grip tightened momentarily on her son before she handed him to Healer Browne, unable to tear her eyes from him. With a few quick flicks of her wand, Healer Browne had the screaming infant cleaned and swaddled, revealing a full head of blonde hair.

As his hair was revealed, there was a collective sigh around the room.

"Another blonde then," Harry said, squinting at the infant as Healer Browne placed him back in Hermione's arms.

"Well, he's certainly yours." Sirius' eyes still sparkled affectionately as he watched her cradle the bundle in her arms.

Hermione beamed down at her son before moaning in pain as another contraction hit. Kingsley whisked her first son out of her arms while Healer Browne positioned herself between Hermione's legs once more.

She smiled at Hermione around her bump. "Let's meet his twin, shall we?"

Hermione groaned while Healer Browne chuckled.

"Have I missed anything?" Hermione's mother exclaimed. Hermione snapped her eyes to the doorway where her parents stood. "Pinky came straight away—"

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked to her father and then down at her nearly completely unclothed state.

"Dad!" she squealed as she tried to cover herself, while her father whirled around.

"I'll just, uhm," he waved his hand vaguely before taking off down the hall.

Another contraction tore through her then, and she cried out as she pain only intensified as it lasted.

"Severus!" She turned to him, knowing that she likely looked crazed. "Bring me another—" she cut off as the pain intensified.

Severus pursed his lips. "It is inadvisable that you take two in such quick succession—"

"NOW!" Her voice had risen to a screech.

She exchanged a long glare with Severus before another contraction forced her attention away.

"Push!" Healer Browne urged, tearing her attention away from her father.

Hermione cried out and squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed again. When she finally opened them again, her mother had taken Sirius' place at her bedside.

"Mum, I can't." She moaned as she sagged back into Arthur's arms, feeling Kingsley cast several cooling charms over her.

"You can, darling," her mother soothed, planting a soft kiss on Hermione's forehead.

"I am never, _ever_ having sex again—"

"Words I'm certain the Ministry would love to hear," Sirius joked.

Hermione's answering glare was murderous. " _Especially_ not with you!"

"Let's have another push, shall we?" Healer Browne interrupted with a gentle pat on Hermione's thigh.

Hermione screamed until she was hoarse as she pushed. Her mother wiped at the tears that flowed down Hermione's face.

"You're almost there," her mother promised. "Just a little more."

"I can't," she moaned. "I can't!"

"You can," Arthur's voice was soothing as he leaned in to give her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "On three?"

In response, Hermione tried to force her legs shut, only for Healer Browne and Sirius to each catch a leg.

"Love," Sirius chuckled. "It'll be over soon, we promise."

Hermione glared at everyone who had gathered around Healer Browne, staring anxiously between her spread thighs. "It would help if everyone wasn't staring at my nether regions!" she snapped.

The men — and her mother — immediately dispersed, some of whose cheeks had blossomed red.

Healer Browne gave her an encouraging pat. "Let's try again, shall we?"

Hermione gritted her teeth and pushed until she flopped back into Arthur's arms once again.

"He's crowning!" Healer Browne announced. "Not too much more," she assured her.

"Let's try and let the Healer catch him this time, hm?" Arthur offered, only to sigh as Hermione gave another determined push and reached down to pull her second son into her arms.

"Oh, Hermione," Her mother breathed as she watched Hermione pass the child to Healer Browne to be cleaned and swaddled. "He's beautiful."

Tears had already started flowing steadily down her cheeks, and she let out a sob as Healer Browne handed her child back to her. The firelight glowed around him like a halo, highlighting his tuft of dark hair. Hermione sobbed harder as she returned her firstborn son to her arms, forcing a reluctant Draco to drop her hand.

It was quiet for a moment as Hermione held her sons and sobbed at their beauty. "They're perfect," she said, looking around the room with a watery smile.

It was then that she caught on to the tension in the room, noting the way most of her husbands shuffled anxiously. Only Severus and Lucius has retired to settees across the room, but they were still eyeing the bundles in her arms carefully.

Hermione grinned. "I suppose we should find out who the fathers are then, shouldn't we?"

Healer Browne's eyes danced with humor. "I suppose we should."

She smiled, quelling the ache in her chest as Healer Browne took the bundles from her arms and settled them into their bassinets.

"Are we ready then?" Healer Browne smiled as half the men in the room nodded eagerly.

When she finally waved her wand and materialized two plaques upon the bassinets, the room fell into stunned silence.

"Oh my," Hermione's mother was the first to speak.

Hermione was unable to tear her eyes from the plaques in front of her even as they blurred with tears. "Oh," she choked out.

When she finally looked up, it was at Harry and Draco, both of whom were still frozen and staring at the bassinets that contained their sons.

Hermione continued sobbing as she watched Harry and Draco approach the bassinets, picking up their sons and watching them with awestruck expressions.

Her other husbands slowly filed out of the room with murmured well wishes while Hermione continued to watch her sons and their fathers, entranced. Healer Browne bustled around in the background, setting it in order while the rest of the room's occupants cooed over the children.

"James, then," she eventually broke the silence. "And Scorpius."

At that, Draco's head shot up to look at her. "You'll—?"

"I know how much the name means to you," she smiled through her tears. "And now I can't picture any other name."

"Thank you," he breathed, crossing over and giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Scorpius Henry," he added as he looked down at the bundle in his arms.

Hermione let out a soft gasp. "After my grandfather?"

"We discussed it once before, if it's alright with you," her father chimed in then. Hermione turned to see him leaning in the doorway, bouncing Emma on his hip. "May I—?" he shuffled awkwardly where he stood. Pinky stood beside them, holding Carina in her arms.

"Dad," she whispered, beckoning him to her. He hesitated for a moment before he put Emma down and crossed over to her in a few quick strides and gathered her in his arms.

"Hermione," he mumbled into her hair. "Hermione, I'm—"

"I love you, Dad," she mumbled into his shoulder, cutting him off. He froze before he pulled her closer.

"I love you, too," he whispered.

The room had fallen silent during their reunion, and when he pulled back to wipe at his eyes they found everyone watching them.

"Scorpius Henry Malfoy," she said as she looked at the bundle in Draco's arms. As if on cue, the infant blinked his eyes open to reveal a bright silver shade.

"He's so perfect," Hermione's whispered, her voice trembling as she spoke.

Emma walked up to the bedside and planted her little hands on the bed, craning her neck to see what the fuss was about.

"Hi baby," Hermione cooed at her daughter, giving her a radiant smile as her grandmother scooped her up into her arms. Emma watched her stepfathers curiously as they gently rocked her newest siblings.

"Would you like to meet your brothers?" Hermione asked, smiling as Emma reached out to poke at the bundle in Harry's arms.

Fresh tears began pouring down Hermione's cheeks when her mother brought Emma closer to the baby as she leaned down to give him a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the forehead.

"Oh!" her mother gasped, her mouth dropping open at the sight of the child wrapped in Harry's arms. "He has your eyes."

Hermione craned her neck until she could see the baby's bright green eyes looking up at his father's matching ones. "Hi James," he breathed.

"Sirius," Hermione said.

Harry managed to tear his eyes away from James long enough to blink at her. "What?"

"James Sirius Potter," she said, nodding at their son. "There was never any other name, was there?"

Harry nodded, smiling beatifically around a small sob and kissed his son's forehead. "No," he agreed. "There wasn't."

* * *

 **In a hint I mentioned that the twins have been guessed correctly before, but I didn't say how many times. Now you all can know the answer, lol - _so many_. Not every pregnancy gets to be a huge secret, hahaha. **

**For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	43. Chapter 43

**A note on future updates:** ** **When I initially announced my hiatus a few months back, I'd hoped I was being liberal by estimating things would go back to normal by August. That unfortunately did not turn out to be the case. If there's anything I've learned during this time, it's that things can go from bad to so much worse in an instant. I can't even begin to describe how tumultuous of a time it has been recently, but the words of support I've received from so many of you mean the world to me.** **Writing has always and will always be a release for me, but please bear with me while I slowly pick back up to where my update schedule was before. I can't announce a definitive end to my slowed schedule for now, but thank you all for being so patient.****

 **As always, thank you to RESimon for being such a lovely beta.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY-THREE**

Hermione watched the sunset disappear over the Manor's grounds, still in awe of the beauty she woke up surrounded by each morning. On this evening, the sky was swathed in a series of reds, blues, and purples, streaking across the horizon beyond the grounds that stretched as far as her eyes could see.

"Hermione," Kingsley's deep voice sounded from behind her. He was leaning casually against one of the glass doors to the balcony that stood ajar. In the golden light of sunset, his skin glowed. She almost gasped at his beauty, letting her eyes sweep hungrily over where his shirt stretched over his heavily muscled torso, lingering where his tie and the first few buttons of his shirt had been undone.

His teeth glittered white against his dark skin as he smiled knowingly at her. "See something you like?"

"So many things," she said back, giving him a sly smile. He chuckled then crossed over to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

He kissed her hair, his lips lingering as he inhaled. "How have you been?"

Hermione twisted in his arms and left her hands slide down his chest. The smile she gave him was tired, and she caught the flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Alright."

The smile he gave her in return was affectionate. "Exhausted, you mean?" He cupped her cheek in a large hand, looking deeply into her eyes.

"Mm." She let herself lean into his touch. His thumb had been brushing delicate, soothing strokes across her cheek, and she could feel an instant comfort seeping through her.

"Have the twins settled yet?"

Hermione sighed. "It took us nearly the entire day to realize that Scorpius would only sleep in Harry's arms. Draco was crushed, but it didn't take long to realize that James would only sleep in _his_ arms."

Kinglsey chuckled. "No cuddles for mum, then?"

"I am currently zero for four," Hermione sighed. She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck until she was teetering on her tiptoes while her face was buried in his neck. His arms went around her waist and she sank further into him, relishing in his embrace.

"Hermione." She felt more than heard the words, the vibrations of his low tone creating a sensation that had her sinking deeper into him. "When was the last time you took a moment for yourself?"

"Right now," she mumbled into his shirt, inhaling his scent.

He laughed. "Just for you. No husbands, no children. Just _you_."

She paused for a long beat. "I went to work—"

"Hermione," Kingsley cut her off, pulling back. He appraised her for a moment, his eyes lingering over the way her jeans and sweater clung to her curves until she flushed. When his eyes alighted back upon her face, he leaned in to give her a slow kiss.

"I love this color on you." His voice was a seductive whisper as he continued to plant kisses lower along her skin. "Especially when I know that it's for me," he murmured against her collarbone before he scooped her up abruptly. He captured her lips in his before she could let out a startled yelp and deposited her on one of the long stone benches that dotted the balcony.

She watched through hooded eyelids as he lifted her shirt and started planting gentle kisses along her stomach. "You deserve" — his words were punctuated with hot kisses along her skin — "so much."

Hermione's skin felt aflame as she felt him pull the button and slowly begin lowering the zipper of her jeans. "Kingsley," she moaned as he slid down her jeans and knickers with agonizing slowness, pressing kisses everywhere but where she desperately wanted them as he went.

"Mm?" he asked as he kissed her ankle. "What can I do for you, Mrs. Shacklebolt?"

His hands wandered back up her body, taking her shirt with it as he slowly revealed more of her flushed skin. She gasped and moaned as she watched him ease her breasts out of the lacy confines of her bra. His thumbs brushed delicately over her nipples that had already pebbled in the cool air. "Make love to me." Her voice was a breathy moan.

"Tonight," he placed a slow kiss on the downy hairs that covered her mound, "is about you."

Finally, his tongue swiped over her clit. He pressed his face closer until it was buried in her cunt before he began laving at her with practiced swipes. Her moans had turned into keens, and she felt a telltale tremble in her thighs as a familiar sweetness began coursing through her cunt. When his tongue plunged into her hole, her back arched up off the bench as she cried out.

When she came down from her high, he was holding her up with a gentle hand of her back. She scanned him with half-lidded eyes, looking from the moisture of her juices that still glistened on his face down to where his cock strained his trousers. She moved to grip it when his hand closed over hers.

"I'll be fine," he kissed her knuckles, "this was solely about you."

She cupped his cheek, meeting his eyes meaningfully as she tried to communicate all the affection she had for him that words couldn't encompass. He spelled away her glistening juices before he leaned in to give her a long kiss.

"We'll be needing to get ready soon," he murmured when they pulled back.

His words shattered her blissful state and he laughed at her ensuing groan. "Already forgotten, then?"

"I just have to remind myself that it's for Arthur." She tried to sit up only to find her legs wobbling beneath her. Kingsley caught her, and she didn't miss the way his eyes darkened as he swept them over her body. "We might have a little time before we have to leave…" she trailed off, running a hand down his chest.

Kinglsey dipped down to kiss her cheek. "I only just managed to get Pinky to promise to come back in a half-hour — our time is nearly up."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's been itching to get me ready for the Gala since she heard about it weeks ago. If there's anyone that is certain to make sure I arrive on time…"

Kingsley chuckled before his voice dropped an octave as he leaned down to give her a slow kiss. "Besides — I would like to take my time with you."

"Later?" she asked, her tone hopeful.

"Later," he promised.

 **X**

"They've certainly outdone themselves, haven't they?" Kingsley nodded at the scene that played beyond the open double doors to the makeshift terrace they stood upon. It had been charmed to show a sky full of glittering stars above despite the fact that they were deep within the Ministry.

It was true that no expense had been spared for the event of Arthur's inauguration as Deputy Minister for Magic. A grand hall at the Ministry was decorated lavishly, and the attendees — many of whom had come from abroad for the affair — were dressed to match. There had been whispers around the room about the event being Britain's first real foray back into the political sphere since the war, re-establishing itself as a political superpower. Thus far, they had not disappointed. Hermione had spent the better part of the evening speaking to various Ministers and other foreign dignitaries, flanked by her two husbands who had commanded each conversation with ease.

"Mm," Arthur hummed his concurrence. "It is a bit much, I must say."

Hermione smiled at him, taking in the rich blue shade of the dress robes he wore that represented his newly elected position. "Already finding the new attention a bit burdensome, are we?"

Kingsley chuckled. "I'll admit that you and I are in agreement on that."

Hermione reached out and placed a hand over each of theirs. "You've both done an incredible job thus far."

"Thank you." Arthur kissed her temple. "But we should be asking you how you're faring, love."

Hermione's eyes strayed back to the people that milled about inside the hall. "I can't say that I'm not relieved that we managed to steal a moment for ourselves," she sighed. "And the children…"

Kingsley hummed his understanding. "We miss them too."

"I'm thankful that Carina's fever has gone down at least," Arthur said. "Tonight's the first time I've seen you even attempt a smile in days."

Hermione rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to soften some of the tension that radiated from the tight, intricate updo Pinky had insisted upon. "I thought two children was difficult, but four…"

Kingsley replaced her hand with his own and wordlessly loosened some of the pins around her head. "It's what we're here for," he reminded her. "They aren't solely your burden to bear. We love them dearly and will always provide for them the best we can."

Hermione tipped her head back and leaned up to plant a quick kiss on his jaw. "I know, and I will forever be grateful for it. But they only have one mother and so many fathers and I can't help but feel—"

Arthur silenced her with a finger to her lips. "You are one of the most brilliant mothers I've ever met," he gave her a quick peck, "and I have no doubt that you will handle our future children with nothing but grace."

Hermione skimmed a finger along his jaw, finding comfort in the familiar feel of light stubble upon it. "I can't wait to meet ours," she murmured before she turned to Kingsley. "And ours," she added.

Kingsley kissed her knuckles. "We have plenty of time—"

Their moment was interrupted by an older couple that stepped out onto the balcony. "Minister! Deputy Minister!" the woman exclaimed. "Madam," she nodded at Hermione. "It's such a pleasure—"

Hermione let the couple's fawning fade into the background, giving her brightest, falsest smiles when prompted. As soon as she found an opening, she politely excused herself and ventured back into the hall. Her cheeks ached from all of the smiling, and the charms on her heels had begun to wear off. She slipped through the crowd, seeking out the nearest loo as she wondered how long she could linger and hide without arousing suspicion.

Just as she spotted one she stumbled as she bumped into a taller figure. "Sorry—" she started before the man turned around, revealing himself to be none other than Harry.

He blinked at her. "Hermione? Hermione!" She heard the tinge of relief in his voice as he gripped her arm and pulled her to join his conversation. Before she could protest, Hermione found herself standing beside him as several Ministry officials that she recognized looked on.

"Mrs. Potter," a short, portly man greeted her. "You look lovely this evening."

"Thank you," she greeted, subtly squeezing Harry's hand until she saw him squirm out of the corner of her eye.

"Your husband has made quite the achievement," another man noted. "You must be proud."

Hermione plastered on the same practiced smile she'd been wearing throughout the evening. "I am. He has more than earned it."

"I imagine that being a part of the same household as the current Minister helped quite a bit as well." Hermione's head turned so sharply that she felt an answering throb from the pile of hair and glittering barrettes that decorated her head. It was the tall, silver-haired woman that she recognized from her wedding and the Beltane ball. She had previously wondered if the sour look ever left the woman's expression, and now decided that it most definitely did not.

"And _I_ imagine that his dedication and loyalty to rebuilding our government both during and after the war in addition to decades of experience working for the Ministry helped even more." She did not mask the sharp edge that had entered her tone.

"Mm," the woman gave her a small, false smile.

"Mr. Weasley's bravery outweighs that of many." Harry, too, hadn't masked the edge in his voice. "Had any of you" — he looked pointedly around the circle of people — "fought alongside him, you would have known that."

This time, Hermione squeezed Harry's hand affectionately as she fought back a smirk at the way several people shuffled and looked away.

There was a beat of silence before another man spoke. "It is true that your husband's reputation precedes him," another man agreed, giving Hermione a short nod.

"I don't believe I've passed along my congratulations on your son," another man quickly changed the subject. "My deepest congratulations to you both."

"Thank you," they answered.

"How old are your twins now?" A short, salt-and-pepper haired woman asked. "A few weeks, isn't it?"

"A month and a half." The smile she gave then was genuine as she thought of her children.

"I suppose you aren't yet with child again?" the silver-haired woman asked, her pale blue eyes trained on the outline of Hermione's flat stomach in her dress robes.

Her smile dissipated as quickly as it had come. "No." Her irritation had come back tenfold. "And I don't suppose _you_ are, either?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at the woman's own midsection. "What a shame that you can't even participate in the program you so desperately wish to police."

Her words had managed to wipe the condescending look off of the woman's face, and Hermione had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen a fraction.

Hermione gave a smile brimming with falsity to the rest of the circle. "Do excuse me. I am _well_ overdue to return home to my children." With that, she whirled and dragged a decidedly un-reluctant Harry with her toward the nearest exit, not stopping until they were near the floos in the Ministry's grand entrance hall. It was decorated nearly as lavishly as the hall, dotted with elaborate Christmas decorations that reflected the impending holiday.

"'Mione, wait," Harry stopped her from approaching the nearest bowl of floo powder. "Can I just— hold you for a moment?"

She looked up at him in concern only to see a beatific smile gracing his features. "What?" she blinked.

"You're brilliant," he leaned down to give her a gentle kiss. "You're— everything I've ever wanted."

The tension in her body started to dissipate. "I love you so much." She leaned up to kiss him again, lingering this time. When she pulled back, she rested her head on his chest and allowed herself to sink into the firm, familiar comfort of his arms wrapped around her. "Can you believe we have a son?" she spoke after a long silence.

Harry hummed in response. "We've come so far."

"Have you…" she hesitated, then stopped.

"'Mione." He tilted her chin up gently. "You're my best friend. You can tell me anything."

She looked away, then forced herself to meet his eyes again. "Do you remember that night when we talked about running?"

Harry froze, then held her closer. "Yeah."

"Do you regret not doing it?"

He pulled back until his eyes met hers. "I don't — I swear it."

She searched his eyes for a hint of regret and found none. "Why don't you?"

"We both always knew that saving our society would be more than just winning the war, didn't we?"

"We did," she agreed. "I'm just… I'm sorry that—"

Harry silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Do you regret not running?"

She shook her head. "No." It was truthful that she didn't — it was the source of her guilt.

He cupped her cheek. "Seeing you as safe and happy as you are now is all I've ever need. It wasn't ideal when we started out, but I've grown to accept it. The sacrifices you've made for me…" he trailed off and kissed her again, "let me make them for you." He kissed her again, but when he pulled back he took her hand and placed something in it. She looked down to see a small journal wrapped in rich blue velvet and embossed with intricate golden flowers. The flowers seemed to glow in the low light of the hall, and she twisted it and watched it catch the light, mesmerized.

"It was my mother's — she had tons of them, chock full of notes and the like just like yours. You're always sat at a desk writing away, so I figured it would be perfect for you. I know I was meant to save it for Christmas, but I picked it up not long before we came and it's been burning a hole in my pocke—"

Hermione silenced him with a long kiss. "I love you," she said when she pulled back, knowing that words alone would never suffice to encapsulate all she felt for him.

When they finally pulled away, his smile was brilliant. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

 **X**

"Ah—!" Hermione bit back a pained moan.

Lucius paused, his wand hovering over her arm. "Shall I stop?"

Hermione grimaced, but shook her head. "It's a little more painful than usual, is all."

Lucius nodded, looking down at where her cursed scar was barely visible. "Treatment sometimes renews their vigor, and it is not unknown for a curse to bury itself as deeply as it can during the final stages."

Hermione nodded, looking to the stone basin that swam with what he had removed so far as she endured the pain. The way the liquid swirled was almost mesmerizing; a shade of black so rich that a part of her yearned to touch it and explore its seemingly endless depths. She could feel what was still embedded in her skin urging her to do exactly that. The tingle of it spread along her infected arm down to her fingertips, leaving them twitchy and restless as she fought against it.

Despite the unrelenting call of the curse, she knew that she felt lighter. The burdens of running and fighting were slowly lifting, leaving wounds that were slowly beginning to heal over. She was still plagued by nightmares at random intervals that would leave fissures in the healing wounds. Still, she found herself able to manage them with ease more often than not as she would rarely awake without the comforting arms of one of her husbands wrapped around her, whispering reassurances.

"That is all for this session," Lucius said eventually, breaking the silence.

She watched him gently roll down the sleeve of her jumper until her arm was completely covered again. "Thank you."

He stood and paused, looking down at her with an expression she couldn't read. "Wh—" her question was cut off by his sudden, swift movement. His hands touched her neck briefly before the warm touch was replaced by a cool sensation around her neck. Before she could open her mouth to question him again, he strode off to his rooms, closing the door firmly behind him. She touched the weight around her neck gently, realizing that a heavy necklace now lay there. She stood and crossed over to one of the tall gilded mirrors in their joint sitting room and immediately gasped.

It was a large necklace that was woven with diamonds nearly as large as the one on her finger and studded in an intricate weave of hundreds of smaller diamonds. At its center hung a gleaming emerald that was nearly the size of her fist.

"Lucius," she breathed, touching the emerald as she noticed that it swirled with its own bewitched light that made it appear to glow from within. It was mesmerizing. She thought of all the times she'd refused to wear the array of jewels in her closet, knowing that despite all of her previous rejections there was no way she could ever reject this.

"Thank you," she whispered to the empty room, knowing that somehow despite his having locked himself away in his rooms, he'd heard them.

 **X**

Hermione held Emma tightly to her side as she descended the steps into the coolness of the dungeons, unable to stifle a smile at the way the miniature bells atop the Santa hat Harry had insisted she wear for the festivities jingled with every step. Emma gnawed at the edge of the small wrapped box she held in her tiny hands.

"Honestly, Emma," Hermione chided, "that's really not sanitary."

"Dada," Emma murmured in response before going back to gnawing at the box that Hermione had long since charmed against the child's unrelenting teeth.

"We're almost there," Hermione reassured her. It was only a moment later that they made it to where the door of his lab stood ajar. He was sitting at the long table, writing intently upon a piece of parchment.

She knocked on the open door. "Can I come in?"

He did not look up. "If you must."

"Dada!" Emma called, dropping the box in her hands as she strained toward her father. Hermione barely managed to catch it with a levitation charm before it hit the stone floor.

Only then did Severus look up with a mild expression of surprise.

"We brought you something," she said as she approached. His eyes flickered briefly from their daughter to the box that floated beside Hermione before he reached out to take Emma from Hermione's arms. Hermione watched them quietly for a few moments. Emma's first reaction was to scatter the sheets of parchment. Severus did not snap at her, instead merely waving his wand and letting the pile rearrange itself on the far corner of the desk. Emma clapped harder and giggled at the show of magic, and Severus cast several charmed birds above her head to her immediate delight.

Hermione smiled at the scene. "You're so good with her."

"She is my daughter," Severus answered simply.

Hermione rolled my eyes. "Am I not allowed to compliment your fathering then?" she teased before depositing the gift on the desk in front of him. "Merry Christmas — from both of us," Hermione laughed as Emma immediately snatched up the box and began gnawing on it once more. "You may have skipped the day's festivities, but we wanted to bring something to you." Nearly the entirety of the rest of the family had spent the day together, exchanging gifts and otherwise enjoying the merriment of the day. Lucius had made only a brief appearance to collect Carina, but he had nonetheless given them a stiff holiday greeting.

He unwrapped the box with a flick of his wand and revealed the deep green tie within. He raised an eyebrow at her and Hermione grimaced. "I took Emma to help me pick something out for you, and she started chewing on this while I was talking to the clerk. I know you rarely wear ties with all of your, erm, buttons, but…" she shrugged. "At least she got the color right. We have might a Slytherin on our hands," she joked.

Severus eyed the tie for another moment. "Thank you," he answered.

Tibby, one of the elves Draco had directed for childcare, popped in then. "It is time for young Mistress' bath," the elf said meekly. Her eyes were wide as she approached Severus slowly, and she seemed to only let out a breath when he handed the infant to her and she was able to safely apparate away.

Just as he turned back to the table, another neatly wrapped box deposited itself in front of him. "From me," Hermione said.

He unwrapped it with a flick of his wand and lifted out the neatly bound pile of parchment from the box.

"Kingsley helped me gather information from top prenatal potions specialists around the world," she explained. "There isn't likely to be much you haven't already discovered yourself, but I thought it would be helpful considering your new area of expertise."

He thumbed through it for a moment, taking in the pages that she'd bound, organized and had translated for him. "Thank you," he said finally.

He made a sharp gesture with his fingers then, and a box zipped across the room and into her hands. It was in a nondescript box that was wrapped with simple brown parchment and tied with a piece of twine. Hermione undid the twine and pulled the top off to see a book titled _New Motherhood for the Mum of Multiples_ as well as a small jar that was filled with a thick blue liquid inside.

"Severus— thank you." She looked down at the contents of the box again and pulled out the jar. "Is this… a salve of some sort?" she guessed, watching the thick liquid slide around slowly.

Severus nodded. "It's for your nursing troubles."

"Oh," she said, meeting his eyes meaningfully. "I— thank you for this."

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. "How do I…"

Severus met her eyes steadily. "Would you like me to show you?"

The effect of his words on her was instantaneous. Pinpricks of heat rose along her body as she felt herself flush with desire. "Now?" Her voice trembled slightly.

He said nothing, instead keeping his eyes trained steadily upon hers as if in challenge. Her entire body felt flushed, the heat that coursed through her veins felt only more pronounced the longer he watched her. The broad, scooped neck of her sweater dress now felt all too convenient and she lifted a hand to slide it slowly off her shoulders before looking down as she fumbled to get the long sleeves off of her arms. She met his eyes again when she moved to roll down the thick wool over her chest until it revealed her brassiere. Only when she slipped a hand behind her back to unclasp her brassiere did his eyes slip down, watching her breasts sway free.

In one swift movement, he stood and kicked away his stool while he simultaneously gathered her and deposited her upon the tabletop. Her nipples had already pebbled in the cool air of the dungeons, and when she felt the first swipe of his finger slathered in the thick liquid across one of them she had to bite back a moan.

"Rub it in thoroughly in small circles like so." His voice was as even as though he was giving a lecture. "Do you feel any relief?"

It took her a moment to find her voice. "Y-yes," she said as she shuddered through his ministrations. There was a trickle of relief that had begun to radiate outward in soothing tendrils, relieving her of the pain of the constant buildup of milk she'd had since she'd stopped breastfeeding.

"Your… engorgement issues are more severe than the average woman due to the time you decided to stop, so the concentration I've given you is slightly higher than the one that will be released publicly," he said. "Do you feel any discomfort?"

"No." The word came out in a near moan. She could not tell if it was the concentration or his expert ministrations that was causing the pleasure to spike even as he moved away from her sensitive nipples to the rest of her breast.

"As you can observe, the salve absorbs into the skin and works rather quickly compared to spells." She forced open her eyes at his words as she realized that she'd thrown her head back in pleasure at some point. The sight of his long, expert fingers on her body sent a flood of heat coursing to the apex of her thighs.

She nearly whimpered when he pulled his hands away. It was silent for a long beat, but the moment flooded her with sudden clarity. "I, erm— thank you," she muttered, fumbling with her bra as she tried to put it back on.

Severus' hands landed atop hers, stilling their movements. "I do not recall dismissing you." His voice had taken on a darker edge that renewed the flood of liquid in her knickers. The air was suddenly thick with tension, and his eyes had darkened to match the tone of his voice.

His grip was firm as he moved her hands back to the tabletop until they were braced behind her. Her breasts heaved in anticipation. He hadn't used this tone with her since their last...encounter. They'd only had sex a few times since she'd given birth, and each occasion had been over quickly with nary a hint of the way he'd taken her roughly that day. But now…

She watched him summon a long, gleaming silver box. "You appear to have forgotten your other gift," he said as he pulled the top off of the box. Inside was a gleaming onyx paddle. It had a snake carved into it that was coiled into an intricate "S".

Hermione's mouth felt dry as she looked at it. She met his eyes that had somehow managed to darken even further. He traced a hand up her calf to her thigh, tracing two fingers along her inner thigh in a delicate, sweeping motion. Her body responded to him instantly and she arched closer to him. His fingers slowly inched up her thigh, his eyes never once leaving hers. She felt lost in their onyx depths until the only thing she could register was her burning desire for him. A desire which she, too, saw reflected in the dark look he gave her. When she gasped at the feeling of his fingers tracing higher, there was a responding glint in them.

There was no mistaking what his look said: _mine_. She reached down until her smaller hand covered his, grasping it gently. He looked down at their joined hands before returning his eyes to hers, a question burning in them. She ran a slow hand up his chest, feeling his abdomen clench under her touch. She ran her hand higher still until she cupped his cheek, knowing her touch communicated her complete trust. When she finally pulled away, it was to guide their joined hands to her mound. When she met his eyes again, she knew that the word that burned in them was unmistakable—

 _Yours._

* * *

 **I can't express how much I appreciate every one of your reviews** **— thank you.**

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord sever: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	44. Chapter 44

**So much love goes out to RESimon for all of her beta work.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR**

A low whistle had Hermione flushing as she stepped into Parvati's room. Parvati herself stood on the plush white rug that dominated the middle of the room, a champagne flute dangling from one hand as she swept her eyes over Hermione's strapless dress.

" _Damn_ ," Parvati smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I should be saying the same about _your_ outfit." Her eyes narrowed on the tight white leather dress Parvati wore. "Five children, you say?" Hermione teased.

"Five indeed," Parvati winked and swayed her hips before she waved a hand at the tray of champagne that floated behind her and sent it to Hermione. Parvati swiped one up and held it up in a toast. "To not being pregnant?"

"Cheers," Hermione agreed.

"Hermione!" Hannah squealed as she ran out of Parvati's closet clad only her underwear. Her cheeks had a tellatale flush to them. "How could you toast without me-e?"

"Hullo Hermione," Luna followed Hannah out. "Do you fancy a fashion show?"

"Sure?" Hermione wheezed as Hannah drew her into a crushing hug.

"Yes!" Hannah grabbed Hermione's free hand and started pulling her toward the closet. "Muggle clothing is just _wonderful!"_

"Isn't it?" Luna twirled, showing off her pair of bell bottomed overalls.

"Those came from _her_ closet," Parvati threw over her shoulder as she led them into her own closet.

Luna twirled again as she followed Parvati into the closet. "I quite like them myself."

Parvati patted her on the head. "I know you do— they're just not quite right for tonight, love."

"Cute, isn't it?" Hannah giggled as she tried to stumble into a bright pink dress.

Hermione laughed. "Let me help you with that."

"What you need is to help yourself," Parvati said, frowning at Hermione's still-full champagne flute.

Hermione rolled her eyes slid the straps into place on Hannah's dress before she picked it up again and took a long sip. "Happy?"

Padma stuck her head out from behind a pile of clothing on the floor. "Oh, whatever. One would think that all that cock would have dislodged the stick that's been up your arse for all these years."

The other women dissolved into guffaws. "Your own stick seemed to have been effectively dislodged as well, might I say," Parvati quipped.

Hermione managed to stifle her giggles long enough to point at the half-empty glass of amber liquid on the ground beside Padma. "I'm certain the liquor had nothing to do with it either."

At that, Padma picked up her glass and took a long swig before cocking her head pensively at Hermione. "It's just occurred to me that we've all slept with your husband at some point."

Hermione groaned.

"Neville?" Parvati whipped to look at Padma, open mouthed. " _Even you?_ And you didn't tell me?!"

Padma tittered. "I can't always be the prude. Besides, he's gorgeous. And attentive. Ernie's even better, but it was a good romp at the time."

Luna paused, thoughtful. "He has a massive cock, I must say."

Parvati hummed in agreement. "Not _too_ long. But thick. Thick in the best way—"

"Alright!" Hermione threw her hands up. "I think that's enough about my husband's... endowment."

Padma giggled. "You're only twenty-one, you've got to—" She clapped a hand over her mouth and shot up, sprinting out of the closet.

"That better be from the liquor!" Parvati called after Padma.

"You've made us all check three times yet," Luna sing-songed. "It must be the drink."

Parvati crossed her arms and huffed as she followed after Padma. "It's the first night we haven't all been preg— Hermione!"

At Parvati's bark, Hermione dropped the handful of clothes she'd gathered off the floor. "What?"

"Drink— _now_." With that, Parvati waved her hand and sent a decanter of whiskey hurling toward Hermione before she sauntered out of the room.

"Let's," Hannah agreed, reaching for a flute of champagne that darted just out of her reach. "Hermoi-ne!" She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at Hermione.

"What?" Hermione blinked innocently.

Hannah followed the champagne that continued to float just out of her reach. "You're no fun at all."

"Really, Hermione," Luna said, crossing over and taking the decanter from Hermione's hand, "It's just a bit of liquor." She took a long, casual swig before handing it back to Hermione, who stood watching Luna with her mouth agape. Even Hannah was blinking rapidly, eyes flying between Luna and the bottle in disbelief.

"Constantly full of surprises, aren't you?" Padma said as she walked back into the closet, sipping slowly from a glass of orange liquid that had the familiar glow of a sobriety potion.

Parvati snatched the potion from Padma before she could take another sip. "Not too much of that now." Parvati crossed over to Luna and took the decanter from her before summoning a glass. "I may or may not have swiped this from Covington's top shelf," she said with a devious smirk. It took only moments for her to fill three more glasses and send them flying over to the other women in the room.

"Drink up — especially you, Hermione," Parvati added, eyes sharpening at the way Hermione's nose wrinkled as she looked at her glass.

Hermione sighed. "Fine," she said before she took a long sip. One more couldn't hurt.

 **X**

The dance floor was a blur of light and color. Hermione swayed in Luna's arms as they moved together to the music. Her head — as well as the contents of her stomach — swayed as well, but the lightness she felt everywhere else practically negated it.

"Are you alright?" Padma shouted over the music.

Hermione's smile was beatific. "Better than alright!" She threw her arms up and swayed her hips. "I feel amazing!"

Parvati pushed her way through a gaggle of Muggle women, leveling them with an intimidating glare when they protested. "Have you seen Padma?"

"Who?" Hannah giggled. Her eyes were fastened shut as she jerked her hips erratically to the music.

"I have to call Ann-Anna!" Padma's head popped up from behind Parvati. "And—"

Parvati whirled to glare at her sister. "Anna can't even talk," she said. "And there aren't any floos in Muggle London for Godric's sake! Have you been following behind me this _entire time—_ "

Parvati was shushed by Hermione's finger on her lips. "You need a drink." Hermione's giggle was inflected with a hiccup.

Parvati plucked Hermione's finger from where it was mashing her lips. She wrinkled her nose and wiped her mouth. "You taste like Muggle. I am, however, getting entirely too sober. Come along!"

Hermione stumbled behind her to the bar, sagging against it heavily when they arrived. "Order me something," Hermione said, throwing a bill that looked vaguely large for what they were ordering onto the bartop.

"Hermione." Parvati caught her arm and pulled her into a seat.

Hermione tripped over her heel before falling heavily into the seat and giving Parvati a wide grin. "What?" she asked.

Parvati smirked. "You're pissed."

"Cor-rect." Hermione's grin widened.

"I love you."

Hermione grabbed Parvati's cheeks and gave her a sloppy kiss on the nose. "And I you!" She clapped a hand over her mouth, but it did nothing to stifle her giggles.

The bartender slid them two glowing green shots lit with blue flames. Parvati blinked at them. "D'you suppose they have a wizard back there?"

Hermione's giggles turned into full blown laughter. "It's sci-ence!" Hermione reached for a shot, but Parvati swiped it out of her reach and downed it in a quick gulp.

Hermione frowned before reaching for the other, which Parvati promptly downed as well. "You've had quite enough, I'd say," she laughed.

"Your laughter is quite contagious, _I_ must say." They turned to see two Muggle men smiling at them. The short, dark-haired one turned to Parvati. "Might I buy you a drink?"

"And I you?" the tall blonde man beside him asked Hermione.

"It depends," Parvati tapped a finger on her chin, showcasing the glittering pear-shaped diamond on her ring finger. "Will you be buying one for my husband as well?"

Hermione jerked out her own diamond. "I have four kids," she blurted, her wide eyes meeting those of the startled blond in front of her.

"And I five," Parvati added casually. Her smirk widened as the men retreated as quickly as they'd come. "That felt exhilarating," she laughed. "But I might also be feeling a bit queasy from that liquor. Let's get some fresh air, shall we?"

Minutes later they were giggling together as they stepped outside, the chilly air on their exposed skin blocked by the warming charms Parvati's elves had thought to cast as they'd been leaving.

Hermione eyed the long, twisting line of Muggles that waited to get into the nightclub as they walked past. "The line's gotten absur—" Hermione stopped short.

"What?" When Parvati turned to look at what Hermione was looking at, she, too, froze.

None other than Alycia Zabini stood but a half dozen paces away. She wore a short, clinging white dress. Her dark hair was piled in curls at the top of her head, giving the expanse of skin the sweeping back of her dress displayed complete exposure. What gave Hermione pause, however, was not the woman herself. Instead, it was the pale hand that was firmly planted on the woman's bare back — a hand which belonged to none other than Lucius Malfoy.

" _You,"_ Hermione stalked forward, managing to wobble only once before she reached them. She jabbed at Lucius' chest, taking in his sharp black suit in a style that was decidedly Muggle. "What are you— and with _her!"_ Hermione cut her eyes at his companion, scowling as she caught the woman's scarlet-painted lips curve into what Hermione had never quite been able to discern was a smirk or a smile.

"How nice to see you again Mrs. Malfoy," she said, her eyes sliding over Hermione. By the time her dark eyes met Hermione's once more, her smirk — because that was definitely what it was, Hermione decided — had only widened.

Hermione's scowl only deepened. "How very unpleasant it is to see you, Mrs. Zabini."

"Mrs. Malfoy," Lucius' voice was curt, "what brings you here this evening?"

For a brief moment, Hermione thought of disregarding the street full of Muggles and hexing him then and there. " _What am I—_ what are _you_ doing here with your— your _mistress!"_ Her words were slurred, but it did not stop her from jabbing him continuously, punctuating each word.

She could hear the smirk in Parvati's voice. "Touché."

"Hardly," Mrs. Zabini's voice was flat, yet it did not lack its ever-present seductive undertone. "I have enough husbands of my own to tend to."

Lucius plucked Hermione's hands from where they'd fisted in his jacket. "We are simply business associates," he intoned, his grey eyes holding hers in a familiar disapproving look.

Hermione scoffed, curling her lips as she took in their attire. "Dressed like Muggles? You were _sneaking—"_

"You are making a scene," Lucius spoke through gritted teeth.

"And you are _cheating—_ let go of me!" Hermione started smacking his hand that held her upper arm as he started dragging her away. They passed groups of curious muggles, some of whom looked poised to interfere before their eyes met Lucius' and they froze mid-step.

Only one man was brave enough to step in Lucius' path. "Excuse me miss," he said with only a hint of a tremble in his tone as he peeked past Lucius to Hermione, "might I ask if this man is—"

"My husband is a cheating sneak!" Hermione continued to rain down smacks on his arm to seemingly no effect.

"As you can see," Lucius' voice was ice-cold, "my wife is in a bit of a state at the moment. Do excuse us." He shoved past the man before he could protest, making him stumble aside.

When they finally halted to a stop in a dark alleyway, her glare was scathing. "You are—"

Her words were cut off by a sudden pull of Apparition, and she stumbled backward when they landed only to flop back onto a soft bed. When she finally managed to struggle upright, she recognized her bedroom. Lucius still stood in front of her, his features illuminated only by the low light that filtered through the tall windows. "Lucius!"

He shoved a potion at her. "Drink."

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him. "You were _sneaking—"_

Even in the muted light, Hermione could still see the aggravated twitch of his upper lip. "Mrs. Malfoy," he spoke in a near-hiss, "you—"

"Hermione. Her-mi-one! My name is—"

"I know your name," Lucius snapped. "Now drink."

"Say it! You've never used it, not once— _Her-mi-one,"_ she slurred.

Another lip twitch. " _Hermione_ ," he drew out her name as though it were a curse, "you may either drink this or continue your childish antics—"

" _Childish antics?!"_ Hermione flew upright and stumbled. When he caught her, she shook him off only to stumble again, barely managing to keep herself upright. "When you were out _cheating_ —" she stumbled again and dropped back onto the bed in a huff. She drew her wand from the glamoured holster on her thigh and pointed it at her heels, fully intent on spelling them off when her wand suddenly flew from her hands.

She looked up to see Lucius holding it, his frown having managed to deepen impossibly further. "You give me back my wand you—" She cut off with a yelp as he yanked her by one of her feet. Her shoe all but disintegrated as his wand touched it, the criss-crossing ribbon that had secured it falling away in tatters. "I liked those!"

"I'll have them replaced," Lucius answered dryly. His eyes traveled up her bare leg to where the hem of her dress had ridden up.

She snapped her legs shut. "I am not having sex with you! I don't sleep with cheat—"

"It would do you kindly to recall that it is impossible for me to be unfaithful to you." She could nearly feel the heat of his glare as he watched her.

"You were _sneaking_ with your _mistress_ and the only reason you didn't have sex with her is because of the bond!"

"I would not have."

" _Lies."_ She stood and jabbed a finger at him. "You want to but you can't and that is _still_ cheating—"

Lucius huffed out a sigh. "Alycia is naught but a past dalliance that was purely physical." His voice was stiff as he spoke the words, each one sounding more forced than the last.

Hermione blinked. "That still doesn't explain why you were dressed like a Muggle and _sneaking_."

Lucius shrugged off his jacket and neatly folded it over his arm. "I make use of the Muggle world when it suits my needs."

"You are abhorrent."

They exchanged twin glares. He turned to leave.

" _Lucius."_

He undid the top button of his shirt with a quick jerk of his fingers before he turned to her. "Yes?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"My handbag," she said, looking pointedly at the bag that he held clenched in his other fist. "Or would you like to add _thieving_ to tonight's list of transgress—"

The bag sailed past her head and flew across her room through the open doors of her closet.

When he turned to leave again, he was stopped by the foot that she quickly outstretched to block his path. "Wait."

He took a deep breath. "What is your need?"

"Maybe I do," she said, her gaze flickering from the open collar of his shirt back to his face.

"Maybe you do what, exactly?"

She fiddled with the hem of her dress. "Want to have sex."

He paused and looked down at her. His lip curled. "I hardly find relations with an inebriated woman a particularly entertaining prospect."

"— you mean your consenting _wife_ —"

"Who also accused me of being unfaithful not ten minutes ago— what are you—"

"Seducing you." Hermione's voice was muffled by the dress that was tangled around her arms as she tried to pull it over her head.

Lucius untangled her and pulled it off. She smiled at him. "Thank you."

A piece of fabric flew from the closet and into his hands. "Dress yourself."

Her smile dropped. "You are missing the point—"

"I wish to retire to my rooms, which I will be able to do once you've gone to sleep." He moved to put it on her while she made to swat him away and banish the offending material. This, however, resulted in her accidentally grasping his sleeve instead. His shirt disappeared entirely not a moment later.

"Oops." Hermione gaped at the revelation of his muscled torso for a moment before giggles started to escape. "Sorry!"

She wondered if his frown would remain permanently etched on his face. He clenched his fists, which served only to emphasize the corded muscle of his arms. She reached out a hand and ran it up his arms. When she reached his chest, she didn't miss the shiver that passed through him.

"You're gorgeous," she said absently, her fingers still tracing him.

When her fingers strayed to the waistband of his pants, he seized her wrists. " _Bed."_

She huffed when he placed her hands back in her lap. "Not without you."

He pinched the bridge of his noise. "My patience is wearing thin, Mrs. Malfoy."

Hermione's scowl deepened when he addressed her. "Maybe I just want to sleep, _Mr._ Malfoy," she shot back.

He raised an eyebrow. "I hardly—" he cut off as she jerked him forward and caused him to stumble into her.

She latched her arms around his waist, her fingers discreetly roving the skin of his back. "Stay."

He pulled her away and jerked back her bedsheets before lifting her bodily and depositing her upon the bed. "Sleep," he said, pulling the covers over her.

"I said," she growled, tossing the covers off, "not without you." She struggled to get up only for him to press her back down. "Luci—" She stopped short as he pushed her over and slid under the sheets.

"Sleep."

Hermione frowned, her eyelids already drooping with exhaustion. "Will you be gone when I wake up?"

"Naturally."

 **X**

Hermione blinked open heavy lids to see the sun streaming prominently through her sprawling windows, prompting her to force them shut once more. She groaned and rolled over, lowering her eyes to slits. They flew wide open, however, when she realized that none other than Lucius Malfoy was sat up in bed beside her, frowning down at her.

"M-morning…" She sat up slowly, taking in his bare torso down to where the sheets were neatly tucked around his waist.

He flicked his wrist and sent a potion flying into her hands. "Drink," he said tonelessly.

She gulped it down, sighing gratefully at the instant clarity it gave her as her throbbing headache disappeared. She set down the empty vial then looked down at the thin satin nightgown she wore before looking back at Lucius' topless state. "Last night…" her voice came out in a slight croak, "I don't quite remember…"

Lucius' ever-present frown deepened. "You were quite… colorful."

She blinked at him, racking her brain as she tried to recall what had transpired the night before. She remembered drinking at Parvati's, leaving for the nightclub… Oh. _Oh._ Flashes of memories of the night came to her in a flood. The smooth tingle of liquor as Parvati had them try half of Covington's liquor cabinet. Even more liquor at the nightclub. Screeching at Lucius in the street. Him taking her home. Asking him to ravage her—

She clapped her hands to her cheeks. "I am _so—"_

Lucius put up a hand, silencing her. "Understood."

Hermione felt a renewed flush creeping up her cheeks. "So did we...actually, erm…"

"Hardly," Lucius' voice was dry. "You did, however, refuse to sleep without my presence."

Hermione flushed deeper. "I...see…"

He shifted slightly to reveal the trousers he still wore. "I would have left you, but you latched yourself onto me in a way that made moving quite tasking."

"I'm glad you stayed." Her voice was small but he heard her nonetheless.

Tibby popped in then, carrying Carina in her arms. "Master requests his daughter," Tibby said, handing the infant to her father. "Good morning, Mistress," Tibby snapped her fingers and a tray of breakfast foods appeared before Hermione.

"Thank you," Hermione said to thin air, the elf having already disapparated.

"Good morning!" Hermione smiled at Carina. "Have you come to play with mum and dad?"

Her daughter paid her no mind and was instead fixated on her father. She already had two handfuls of his hair gathered in her tiny fists and was tugging on it. Lucius watched their daughter quietly, his silver eyes fixated on her every move. He did not complain when she started climbing on him, sucking on his cheeks and poking at his skin. Once she finished her exploration, she let out a small sigh and rested her head gently on his chest. She gave Hermione a small, contented smile as she caught sight of her mother before she sagged even deeper into her father. Lucius, in turn, started rubbing gentle circles on their daughter's back.

Hermione's heart felt as though it would swell out of her chest. Her body was aflame with an affection so deep that tears sprang to her eyes, unbidden. It was a moment of complete peace and affection. Her daughter playing happily with her father. Her watching her husband dote on their child. The feeling that washed over her was a level of bliss that she had held slim hopes for when this arrangement had come into fruition.

Naturally, Carina chose that moment to snatch Hermione's glass of orange juice and upend it on herself. She blinked before she burst into tears.

"Carina!" Hermione tried to soothe the wailing child by gathering her into her arms rubbing her hair. "It's alright, it's just juice." She spelled away the mess with a quick wave of her wand, although the smell lingered. By the time Hermione calmed Carina's tears, Lucius had already summoned an elf.

"Bathtime for mistress," the elf said, gathering Carina in her arms and disappearing.

"You're...incredible with her," Hermione said, breaking the silence that had fallen.

Lucius appraised her quietly. "As are you." He met her eyes and held them.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes not leaving his. She leaned toward him minutely, watching to see if he would tense up. When he did not she shifted again, the movement more purposeful. She slid over until she could swing a leg over to straddle him. She ran her hands up his chest, her fingers lightly grazing as she went. He shuddered in the wake of her touch, and she watched his muscles tense beneath her touch. She held his eyes all the while, watching his eyes darken as she continued her exploration of his body.

It was him that caught her by the chin and surged forward, pulling her into a bruising kiss. Hermione moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself to him. His fingers slid under her nightgown and roamed her skin. She bucked against him and deepened the kiss, drowning in the taste of him. He was bruising and gentle all at once, his every touch leaving trails of fire in their wake. It was more than a kiss, it was—

A loud clatter sounded behind her. She sprang away from Lucius, her head whipping around as she tried to find the source of the noise. "Who—"

Draco stood in the open doorway. He held a tray of food, his fists clenched tightly around the silver was a shattered glass of pumpkin juice on the tray, and the food was littered with broken glass and the remnants of the juice as it seeped around it. Draco's eyes were stormy, fixated on where Hermione still straddled Lucius.

The silence was deafening.

"Draco—" When Hermione shifted to move off of Lucius his hands — still buried under her nightgown — tightened on her momentarily before he loosened his grip and dropped them completely. She scrambled off of him, sparing only a momentary glance at the unreadable look on Lucius' face before she was scrambling off the bed.

"Parvati flooed to check on you." Draco's voice was stiff and hard. "I thought I would bring you some breakfast. I see you already have some."

"Draco," she started, at a loss for words. "I—"

He turned and stormed away, dashing the tray down on one of the end tables in her sitting room.

"Draco!" She ran after him, trying to catch up with his long strides. She seized his arm just before he reached the door to her and Lucius' main sitting room. "Draco, please."

"You're still sleeping with him then?" Each word was undercut with a quiet anger that pained her heart.

"Draco…"

"Answer the fucking question, Granger."

Hermione stepped back. "I have to. You know—"

He turned to face her and she could see how the muscle that normally jumped in his neck when he was angry was nearly trembling. "You know that's not what I meant. That—" he made a sharp gesture toward her room, "that was more than that."

Hermione swallowed and looked away. "I have to," she whispered after a moment.

He did not answer, yet she could still feel the anger radiating off of him in pulsating waves.

"It's required until they tell me I no longer have to," she continued, desperate to fill the silence. "I— "

"If they did, would you?"

Hermione swallowed again, her throat dry and her heart hollow. When she finally answered, her voice was small. "They wouldn't. The twins are nearly four months old and I haven't gotten pr—"

"And _if they did?_ " His fists clenched and unclenched, his entire body taut with tension.

She opened her mouth and closed it again. "He's my husband too, Draco."

Draco let out a short, humorless laugh. "He's also a heartless murderer who once tried to kill you. Or have you forgotten that, too?"

She said nothing, the sorrow that anchored in her heart weighing down heavily upon her chest.

He crossed to the door and wrenched it open. "It would do you well not to."

* * *

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord sever: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	45. Chapter 45

**So much love goes out to RESimon for all of her beta work.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE**

"Mrs. Bennett?" Hermione called, looking up from her chart and scanning the room.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise when none other than Millicent Bulstrode stood up and strode over to her. The taller woman offered nothing in greeting, her face blank as she looked at Hermione expectantly.

"Oh, uh, right this way," Hermione said, leading her down the hall.

Although the examination room was but a dozen feet away, the walk felt especially long. The other woman's presence loomed like a dark cloud of tension. When Hermione slid the door closed behind them, she took a deep breath before turning to where Millicent had seated herself upon the bed.

"How are you doing today?" Hermione asked, putting on a false, bright smile.

Millicent remained expressionless, looking up at Hermione with dead eyes. Hermione swept her eyes over the woman, taking in her haggard appearance. Her black hair was gathered in a messy bun, and her thin robes were wrinkled and stained with something on the shoulder that she didn't appear to have noticed.

"Fine," Millicent answered gruffly. "My arm?" She looked down pointedly at the sling that encased her left arm.

"Right," Hermione said. She drew up a set of diagnostics and began analyzing the break's healing. When she eased it out of the sling, Millicent winced and turned away.

"Sorry," Hermione said, gently soothing it with a spell. "May I ask how it happened?"

Millicent answered with a brooding glare.

"Right." Hermione let an awkward silence descend upon them as she continued to tend to Millicent's arm.

"My daughter fell." Millicent's voice startled her. "I caught her. Barely."

"Oh," Hermione looked up at Millicent who was still looking away. "You're a good mum."

Millicent grunted in response.

"I see that it's only been a day," Hermione said as she scanned the readings that were suspended in the air around them. "You'll need to keep off of it for at least one more, but it's healing well."

"Is that all?"

Hermione stood and canceled the spells. "Yes," she answered. "Although—"

Millicent stood quickly. "I'll be going then."

"Millicent—" Hermione paused, taking in her appearance again. Millicent narrowed her eyes in warning, but Hermione swallowed and continued. "Are you certain that you're alright?"

Millicent's fists balled tightly for a moment before she released them. Tension radiated off of her in waves. "I have four husbands and six children, all of whom are ill at the moment," she spoke through gritted teeth, "My arm is broken and I'm almost certain that I'm pregnant with my seventh." She turned and glared at Hermione. "Not all of us are war heroes who are on the cover of the Prophet each week. Some of us have parents in Azkaban. Some of us—" she sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, "— some of us are just _tired."_

She stormed out of the room before Hermione could speak.

 **X**

The door slammed behind Hermione as she stormed into the room, an envelope crushed in her fist. Draco sat at his desk, thumbing through the piles of parchment that were gathered upon it. He looked up at her as she strode over to him, his expression impassive.

Hermione ripped out the letter that was inside the envelope and threw it at him. The bright red _Request Approved_ stamp shone like a beacon as the page floated in the air between them. "Did you do this?"

Draco caught it before it floated to the ground and scanned its contents. He looked up at her calmly. "Yes."

Hermione's jaw clenched. "What gave you the right?"

"The law stipulates that you aren't required to provide more than one child per husband. You've had three children since they forced you to resume sleeping with all of your husbands. All I asked was for them to take note of that, and they did."

She glared at the page in his hands before looking back up at him. "It is _not_ your choice."

"It's already done."

Hermione took deep, shuddering breaths. "Why are you doing this?"

Draco stood, his figure towering over her as he glared down at her. "Why are you so upset about it?"

"Why am I upset?! Why am I—"

"YES!" Draco was near trembling with anger. "You should be relieved that you don't have to lay with someone every night anymore. Instead, you're upset. And why is that, I wonder? Perhaps it's because you _do_ want him beyond your obligations, even though you've lied to me and said that you didn't—"

"I've never lied to you!"

"You've omitted, which is worse!"

Hermione's fists were balled so tight that she could feel her nails digging deep into her palms, nearly breaking the skin. "We've been married for nearly two years!"

"And?!" Draco seethed. "When has he ever given a damn about you? About _anyone?!"_

"You know that's not true—"

Draco scoffed. "He dotes on Carina now. He did it with me back then, too. But when she's older—-" he paused, clenching his jaw, "when she's older he'll toss her aside, too. Show her the bastard that he's always been—-"

"You don't even care to see that he's changed! He's always been changing, but you're stuck in the past—"

Venomous heat burned in Draco's eyes. "You're stuck with an illusion of a man that doesn't exist. Do you think he cares because he gets to fuck you whenever he gets the chance?"

" _Stop."_

Draco spat out a short, humorless laugh. "That's it, isn't it?" he said. "You know that he's only fucking you because he has to. Because you're the only choice he has. You can deny it, but you know the truth."

"I'm his _wife,_ Draco. You can't expect us to never develop any feelings for each other. We have a child together, for Merlin's sake!"

Draco's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "He had a wife when he was fucking random broads too. Do you think that you're special because he's been forced to be with you? Do you think that he's going to suddenly care for you because of a bloody _law_ —"

"Shut up!" she screamed. "You're so filled with hatred for him that you can't even see—"

"We both know damn well that I know him better than you ever will! Do you think that he did whatever he supposedly did for the Order out of the kindness of his heart?" Draco loomed over her, his body almost vibrating with anger. "He did it for himself as he has always done. He doesn't give a damn about _anyone_ —"

"You don't get to decide whether he does or does not care! People can change!"

His eyes sharpened. "Have you?"

"Have I _what,_ Draco?"

"Changed. It's hard to believe that you would be so naive—"

Hermione let out a short, derisive laugh. "Of course you would conflate empathy and understanding with naiveté—"

"He went to Azkaban for trying to murder you!" Draco shouted. "And now—"

"He's shown me that he's changing! He's _trying_ and you won't give him even a stitch of leniency—"

"Because it's bollocks!"

Hermione's heart pounded as they stared each other down, the air around them thick with tension.

When Hermione spoke, it was through gritted teeth. "You do realize that by asking them to lift the requirement that you've exempted yourself as well, right?"

Draco kept his chin held high. "I don't give a damn. Not if it means that he doesn't get to have you either."

Hermione stormed over to the door. Her hand was tight on the doorknob as she paused.

"Let's just… focus on our son for now."

The implication of her words hung heavy between them.

She heard his sharp exhale behind her. "I agree."

She slammed the door behind her as she left, the echo of it ringing with finality.

 **X**

"Severus?" Hermione knocked on the door of his lab. She twisted her fingers nervously as she hovered in the doorway, praying that he would not turn her away. She'd wandered the streets of Muggle London for hours, playing the conversation with Draco in her head on an endless loop. She'd eventually found herself Apparating into the dungeons, her feet carrying her to Severus almost automatically.

He looked up from the parchment he was writing upon. "Mrs. Snape," he answered before going back to writing.

She took that as the only invitation she would get. She walked in and looked about, watching the rhythmic stirrings of several cauldrons he had charmed that were bubbling away.

"What is your need?" He spoke without looking up.

"Company," she answered, looking around again.

He raised an eyebrow. When he did not immediately throw her out, she quickly took the opportunity to sit down beside him. "What are you working on?"

She was momentarily surprised when he responded. "Another commission from the Ministry," he answered without looking up from his page.

"I see," she said. "Anything I can help with?" She scanned the pages in front of her. "A fertility potion?"

He paused, curling his lip. "Something of the sort."

Hermione wrinkled her brow, looking down at her wedding ring. "But surely the fertility charms on our rings are enough? They're strong, and coupled with the anti contraceptive—"

"It is not for bound women."

Hermione stiffened. "But the only unbound women are those who are infertile, or above the ideal birthing age…"

His answering silence spoke volumes.

Cold settled in her core. "They can't possibly…"

Severus gave a short, sharp nod. "As many as possible, they claim."

"That's…" Hermione's heart clenched as she thought of the women that would be affected. Andromeda. Healer Browne. Healer Janne. McGonagall, perhaps. Narcissa.

The silence that descended was awful.

"Did we…" Hermione clutched the tabletop and squeezed her eyes shut. "Did we make a mistake?" she asked, opening her eyes and looking at him.

His quill stopped scratching on the page. It was a long beat before he responded. "I do not know."

Hermione thought back to the days they'd spent deep within the Ministry, coordinating teams of researchers to find solutions to save their rapidly dwindling population. There had been countless times that they'd had to be granted permission for further clearance, each time probing deeper into the Archives and the Department of Mysteries until Kinglsey authorized only her and Severus to venture any deeper. There had been many long days at St. Mungo's as they'd filtered through volunteers for their trial runs of pregnancy spells, followed by long nights spent researching. The tumultuous feelings that had tumbled through her mind the day they'd discovered the bonding spell came rushing forward like a torrent, pouring unbidden through the solid door of guilt she'd kept firmly shut since they'd made the decision that would seal the fate of their society.

Severus turned to her, quietly observing her reaction. "It was an impossible choice."

"It's hard," Hermione whispered. "So hard sometimes, facing other women my age and seeing them go through the struggles in their pregnancies that I've experienced myself. I feel so guilty knowing that it was partially my decision to bring what we found to the Wizengamot."

"Tell me," he asked, "what could we have done in the alternative?"

Hermione paused, biting her lip. "We…" The obvious conclusion hovered at the tip of her lips, although her mouth was unable to form the words.

"The War took a toll on our population, especially on those who were young and foolish in their eagerness to fight. The plague then came and took a disproportionate amount of the women left. What were we left with?"

Hermione swallowed. "Many fewer than we could have imagined—"

"No," he cut her off, his voice hard. "We were left with _desperation_." His eyes burned into hers as he spoke. "A desperation that transcends petty notions of guilt and regret. We all did what we had to in order to save Wizarding Britain. The feeling may yet be foreign to you, but true desperation makes one do things that—"

"It isn't foreign to me," she cut him off. "It was how I felt when I saved you."

Her eyes did not leave his as she spoke, granting her the rare opportunity to see a twitch of surprise grace his features before his face melted back into its usual impenetrable mask.

This time, the silence somehow felt heavier.

When she spoke her next words, she had to turn away, unable to meet his eyes. "Do you still regret it?" _Do you still regret me?_ Her unspoken question hung in the air between them.

He was silent for so long that she felt her body burning with the pain of his unspoken rejection. She made to stand, unwilling to let him see her shed the tears that had gathered in her eyes. She'd thought that they'd come further than this. She'd thought that perhaps he'd be able to grow to care for her the way she did him—

His hand catching hers made her pause. He pulled her gently until she turned around, although her eyes still remained steadily averted.

"Look at me." The command in his tone made her almost want to acquiesce, but she stopped herself before she would have to see what lingered in his gaze. Strong fingers on her chin had her twisting to him anyway.

"I do not." His voice was steady and unwavering.

Hermione's heart stopped before restarting in a stuttered staccato. "You...don't?"

His eyes did not move from hers. She reached over and placed a hand over his, watching their rings shift to onyx. She leaned forward and kissed him slowly, savoring the feeling his lips moving beneath hers. She stood and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer to him. She hadn't a measure of how long it had been, only knowing that she was breathless by the time she finally pulled away.

She eyed the neat piles of parchment spread out on the desktop once more. His eyes followed hers, and she watched him slowly levitate his notes until they were stacked in a neat pile that hovered over the desk.

With a flick of his wand, the pile ignited.

They watched in silence as it burned. When the ashes had fallen into a pile on the tabletop, she was the one who banished them.

 **X**

"Hermione, dear."

Hermione turned her head back to see Augusta Longbottom's mouth twisted into its signature disapproving frown. "Do fix your face. Frowns are unbecoming on women your age. And sit up while you're at it — that slouch is wont to become permanent."

Hermione forced herself to smile brightly at Augusta as she shifted her posture.

"Now this one is for dearest James," Augusta continued, pulling out a bright yellow garment that appeared to be a dress from her gleaming red handbag. She dropped it atop the growing pile of similarly knitted garments. "Scorpius is a little sturdier than James so I've charmed this one…"

"Are you alright?" Neville murmured, squeezing her hand where it was joined with his under the table.

She nodded at him and squeezed his hand back before they turned back to his grandmother and the pile of clothing that seemed to have doubled in mere minutes. She held his hand tightly all the while, his gentle thumb that caressed along the back of her hand providing a soothing comfort.

The elderly woman's voice once again faded into the background as Hermione found her eyes straying to the couple that sat a few tables behind them. Some discretionary notice-me-not charms had been added around their table at the request of Augusta, allowing them some relative peace from the prying eyes around them.

She was thus certain that Millicent had yet to notice her staring. Since Millicent had entered minutes prior, Hermione's attention had been nearly completely trained on her. Despite the tall, handsome man that she had entered with doting upon her since they'd sat down, the haggard look that she'd seen at St. Mungo's wasn't completely gone. Hermione watched as the couple locked hands across the table and the man lifted and kissed the hand where Millicent's ring glowed a bright yellow. Despite the small, genuine smile Millicent gave him, the tired slouch did not dissipate completely.

Hermione's last conversation with Millicent had plagued her in the days since it had occurred, coupled with the subsequent conversation she'd had with Severus. It had resulted in few hours of sleep as she'd ruminated, unable to completely banish her guilt. She thought of Millicent's future with the man, how they seemed happy despite the heavy burden that lay upon her shoulders—

Hermione stood up abruptly. Augusta paused mid-sentence, a frown once again forming on her features. "I must say that you are acting quite strangely today—"

"Do excuse me," she said, quickly gathering the pile of baby clothing and settling it into her handbag. "Thank you so much for the clothing, Mrs. Longbottom. I just— there's something that I must do quite urgently."

She hurried out of the restaurant, leaving her husband and his grandmother in flabbergasted silence.

 **X**

She barely emerged from her rooms for three days.

She left only to check on her children. Several of her husbands filtered in and out, looking perplexedly at the growing piles of parchment that littered her desk as she scribbled away. She mumbled vague explanations until they gave up asking, leaving her to work late into the nights.

That had lead her to where she now stood in front of all of her husbands, a thick, makeshift book fashioned out of rapidly bound parchment clutched in her fingers. All save Draco had come to the family meeting she'd called, and all were watching her intently as they waited for her to speak.

"I—" Hermione hesitated, her eyes flicking to the makeshift book in her hands and back to her husbands again, "I want to preface this by saying that I didn't make this as a direct result of circumstances in our marriage."

She watched as Harry and Neville's brows furrowed equally in response to her words, confusion etched across their features. She swallowed and turned to Kingsley. "Normally, I would have brought this to you privately first, but it involves our family and I—"

"Speak, if you will," Severus cut in, the tone of irritation high in his voice. Kingsley encouraged her with a small smile and nod.

"Right." Hermione was unable to stop her eyes from flicking between the men before her and the parchment in her hands once again. "This is a proposal—" she stopped her voice from trembling under their curious stares, "for the Wizengamot. Asking them to...amend the Marriage Law." Hermione forced herself not to look away from her husbands as she spoke.

"It isn't— it truly isn't about me. I saw— there was another woman that I saw. Even though I can tell that she loves her husbands dearly, she's also clearly exhausted. She's had nearly twice the number of children required of her already, and—"

Hermione paused to take a deep breath before continuing. "I just… I cannot ignore the fact that there are significant changes to be made. Our rings, for example. They contain both fertility _and_ anti-contraceptive charms, and the Ministry hasn't indicated that either will be removed during our lifetimes. Yet there are women who've already birthed more than the requisite amount, and it is unfair to expect us to refrain from sex" — she felt her cheeks warm as she looked away briefly — "if we no longer wish to have any children. It is doubtful that they'll agree to remove both, but if the anti-contraceptive can be removed after the requisite amount of children have been born then couples will retain some semblance of a choice. We'll need to do a census, but if as many women as I suspect have had more children than required, then I think that the constant monitoring can be removed. And marriage counseling could be—"

"Hermione," Kingsley stopped her. He gave her a soft smile. "I think it's brilliant."

Hermione let out a long breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "You do?"

"It cannot be objected that we do not yet know the full scope of what the physical toll of this law will be on the bound women as the years go on. Until now they've been operating out of desperation, but now that we are certain that it does work, a little leniency may be needed."

Hermione nodded, giving him a bright smile. "Thank you."

"Agreed," Neville said. "It sounds great."

Her smile grew only brighter. "Well, then," she said, flicking her wand and letting the copies of her proposal fly into her husbands' hands. "I've made copies for all of you to look over before I submit it."

Kingsley looked up from where he was thumbing through his. "I'll expedite it myself on your behalf," he said. "This is impressive — and quite brave of you, Hermione."

"Thank you," she said, meeting his eyes meaningfully.

Sirius stood and stretched. "As a matter of fact, I don't quite think you needed to bring this to us at all."

Harry nodded in enthusiastic agreement. "You're as brilliant as ever, 'Mione."

"If that'll be all then, love?" Sirius asked, his eyes twinkling as he smiled at her.

Hermione nodded, still smiling brightly at them. "That's all."

Severus was the first to disappear, although the others stopped and gave her encouraging words and embraces as they left.

She was surprised to see that Lucius had lingered. She watched as he slid a page out of his robes and handed it to her. "To appease your concerns." His voice was stiff.

She scanned it, taking in the number of shares it indicated had been sold to one Mrs. Alycia Greengrass. "Oh," she said, looking up at him.

"I decided to exit a joint venture we'd entered into some time ago. It had to be done with a Muggle Barrister present."

"Oh," she said again. She flushed as she recalled the way she'd drunkenly berated him in the streets. She swallowed. "I still have to apologize for the way I, erm, berated you. It was improper of me to treat you in such a manner—"

Lucius held up a hand, silencing her. "Understood."

He turned to leave without a word. She opened her mouth and closed it, only to realize that she'd opened it again after the word had already escaped. "Lucius," she called.

He paused and turned, watching her with an unreadable expression.

She stepped closer toward him, hesitating momentarily. _He did it for himself as he has always done. He doesn't give a damn about anyone — it would do you well not to forget it._ Draco's words haunted her as she met Lucius' eyes, desperate to see an indication of anything in his eyes that would lead her to believe the opposite. She twitched a hand toward him, still unsure of what she wanted. She opened her mouth to ask all the questions that bubbled on her tongue, bursting with equal amounts of curiosity and fear about the answers she might receive.

"Do you have something to say, Mrs. Malfoy?" His steely grey eyes did not stray from hers, nor did they betray an ounce of what he was thinking.

She held his gaze for a long beat. "If I ask you all of the questions that I want to—" she fluttered her eyes shut as she took a deep breath, "—will you answer them?"

The longer the silence stretched between them, the harder it became for her to open her eyes and face him.

"No." The word was a whisper against her lips, and she opened her eyes to see him but a breath away. His lips were upon hers not a moment later, drawing her into a searing kiss. His hands lifted to her face and drew her closer, his lips almost possessive in the way they moved against hers.

He was gone as quickly as he's approached, and by the time her eyes fluttered opened his presence was but a whisper of a memory on the air.

 **X**

Hermione's heart felt lighter as she headed to Carina's room, her lips still tingling from Lucius' kiss.

The minute she opened the door, however, she was startled by Carina's loud wails that spilled into the hall. Hermione rushed over to her daughter. "Shh, mummy's here now," she soothed, "It's alri—"

Hermione paused, noticing a neatly folded piece of parchment underneath Carina as she lifted her up. She furrowed her brow, picking it up as she balanced Carina with her other arm.

The parchment fell from her fingers not a moment later as her blood turned to ice.

* * *

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	46. Chapter 46

**IMPORTANT: Please note that this is a re-write of the original chapter 46. It has been lengthened for clarity, and scenes from 47 have also been moved up and integrated with the chapter. Please re-read so that you can fully understand 47.**

Hi everyone, This rewrite is a little unconventional for me — I apologize for any confusion. I understand that some of you were confused by the last chapter, and the last thing I want is for readers to feel that way. In trying to capture a certain tone, I realize I may have missed the mark a bit in clarifying exactly what was occurring. I hope this rewrite will shed more light for you all. This fic means a lot to me, and all of your support means the world to me as well.

This fic has always had an outline, which includes a specific direction and set of events that'll be unfolding in a specific way. The events of 46 have always been a part of my outline, and the newest events are not something that I've thrown in halfheartedly. I am sorry that the direction of the fic has disappointed some of you, but I want to thank you for following this far regardless — it means a lot to me that I had your support at any point, regardless of how you may feel now.

 **As always, thank you to RESimon for your endless patience and fantastic beta work.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY-SIX**

Hermione felt her world tilting on its axis. Her entire body felt numb as she watched the page float to the ground, the words scrawled on it forever etched into her mind. The contents of the note replayed in her mind in a sickening loop. _Tell no one. How many do you think you can save?_ _You can't protect them all._ That, and little else: a number of galleons that represented nearly all she had in her account. A meeting place and a date that was only days from now. No signature.

She felt bile rising in her throat as the implication of the words sunk deeper. Someone had been here. Someone had left a note demanding ten of thousands of galleons. Someone had gotten past the wards, had left this threat, had _touched her daughter_ —

Her eyes locked on her daughter who was still wailing incessantly.

" _Lumos!"_ Her voice trembled as she rushed out the word. The room was instantly bathed in light, shining a horrifying lens upon her daughter's distress. Her fingers were frantic as she searched Carina's body for any sign of injury. She appeared unharmed save her wails, the sounds feeling like individual punctures to Hermione's chest as they grew louder.

"Pinky!" Her cry was warbled and hoarse, impeded by the constricting feeling she felt in her throat as it seemed to close in. "PINKY!"

The elf appeared not a moment later. "Yes, Mistress?" the elf smiled up at her.

"Who was in here?!" Hermione's voice was a desperate wail. "Who was in here tonight!?"

Pinky's eyes widened, surely taking in the manic look that Hermione was certain had taken over her features. "I is leaving minutes ago to check on Mistress Emma. I is not certain, Mistres—"

" _WHO?!"_

Somehow, Pinky's eyes managed to widen impossibly further. "Master Lucius was here. And Tibby, and Master Longbottom with Young Mistress Emma."

" _Who. Else?"_ Hermione felt her knees give way as she slowly crumpled to the ground, still clutching a sniffling Carina tightly in her arms.

"N-no one," Pinky blinked at her. "Was someone we is not knowing in Young Mistress' roo—"

"N-no. No." _Tell no one. How many do you think you can save?_ The words mocked her from the page that was crumpled beneath her. Hermione felt around with still-numb fingers until they closed around it. Her heart stuttered as it crumpled in her grip, cementing the reality that yes, the note — and the words in it — were without a doubt real.

"Is something the matter? Shall Pinky fetch Master—"

" _No."_ Hermione's voice was sharp. Her children, her _children_ —

She stood up and ran down the hall, bursting frantically into Emma's nursery. She burst through the door only to find the room bathed in silence. She ran up to the crib to see Emma sleeping peacefully, her little chest rising and falling with the steady breaths of deep sleep. Despite the undisturbed aura in the room, Hermione's unease was only augmented. Someone had gotten in here, could _still_ be in the Manor, watching them, waiting to harm yet another of her children...

She hadn't realized Pinky had followed behind her until the elf spoke. "What is the matter, Mistress?"

It took a couple of tries for Hermione to find her voice again. "Stay here. Do _not_ leave."

Hermione did not wait for Pinky's answer and instead turned and ran back out of the room, still clutching Carina tightly to her chest. She entered the twins' merged nursery to find Harry standing with Scorpius over his crib, watching the miniature Quidditch players that flew over the crib.

Hermione saw the surprise that widened Harry's eyes as he turned around at her abrupt entry, yet could not stop the tremble from sounding in her voice as she spoke. "Where— where have the twins been all night?"

Harry blinked at her. "With Malfoy? Hermione, what—"

Her eyes flew to James' empty crib. "Where's James?"

"He's fine—"

" _Where is my son?"_

Harry blinked at her before frowning. "What's going on?"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath, praying Harry couldn't see the tears that were gathering there. "Just tell me where he is."

Harry's frown deepened. "He's with Malfoy, getting a bath. Is Carina alright? Why are you holding her like—"

Hermione turned on her heel and ran toward the closed bathroom door. Carina made soft noises of protest but Hermione only held her closer as sheer panic propelled her forward. The room felt entirely too cavernous, the journey feeling entirely too long as her limbs felt as though she was moving underwater.

She ripped open the door to find Draco smiling over James as the infant slapped at the bubbles that rose around them. Draco paused as she entered, the smile immediately dropping from his face.

"What, Granger?" The edge to his voice barely registered to her. Their fight now felt entirely insignificant in the face of all that had occurred.

"I—" her voice trembled as she spoke, taking in James' curious green eyes as he looked up at his mother.

He frowned, taking in her appearance. "Did something happen?"

"Hermione?" Harry's voice sounded from behind her. "Tell us what's wrong."

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath, the note's contents still haunting her. _Tell no one. Tell no one. Tell no one._

 _How many do you think you can save?_

She opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. She could tell them. She could tell them now and they could tell the others—

Unless there was more than one. One person had left the note, yes— but how many were there? How many had been able to sneak into the Manor, past the wards, to the children? Was someone lurking outside the door now, waiting to signal their accomplices if she uttered a word to Harry or Draco now? Could she guarantee their safety— their sons' safety— if she spoke now?

She turned to Harry, whose features were twisted with concern. "Everything is fine," she said, nearly surprising herself with how easily the lie slipped out.

She slipped past Harry's outstretched hand before he could grasp her arm and went back into the room. Every shadow she saw felt sinister, crawling with the unknown. She didn't know enough— she didn't know enough about any of this, what to do, what to think, how to act—

"'Mione," Harry called from behind her, "Please talk to me."

She mashed a fist into her mouth, stifling the sobs that threatened to escape even as tears started to pour down her face. They splashed down onto Carina who started to squirm once again.

"You're acting so strangely," Harry continued, his voice moving closer. "Just say something, please."

Hermione sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. It broke anyway. "I'm fine."

Harry sighed and moved closer still. "'Mione—"

 _How many do you think you can save?_ "I said I'm fine!" She bowed her head and ran past him, hoping the darkness covered the gleam of tears on her face.

She went back into Carina's nursery, her heart sinking deeper into her chest as she stepped over the threshold. Her eyes scanned the room as she clutched her squirming daughter to her chest. Although the room was now bathed in light, everything still looked tainted by darkness.

She crossed back over to the crib, each step feeling heavier than the last as she approached it. It appeared untouched, although she knew that someone had been in here, had _touched her daughter_ —

She choked back a sob, feeling herself begin to tremble as she held her daughter tight and kissed her downy platinum hair. She knew that Carina would never touch that crib — never touch _anything_ in the room — again. She took in the room Lucius had tailored perfectly to what he wanted for their daughter, from tasteful white decor to each item that he'd had switched out whenever Carina gave even the slightest indication that she had no interest in it.

Hermione froze as her eyes landed on the mobile that hung over the crib. No, no, _no_ —

A single blood-red gem hung amongst the cream-colored butterflies that flapped in a charmed wind. It was a red so deep that it was almost black, near-pulsating with the telltale inky darkness of a powerful curse at its core. It was suspended upon a single, delicate string that was so thin that the gem nearly appeared to be floating. With a trembling hand, she waved her fingers to cut a corner of a blanket that was thrown over the armchair beside the crib and summoned it into her hand. The string gave way the instant she closed the soft cashmere over the gem.

The second the delicate string broke, a piece of her broke with it.

She didn't realize Harry had followed her once again until he spoke. "Hermione."

"Nox," she whispered, plunging the room into darkness before she stuffed the turned to face Harry. He was but a shadow in the doorway he darkened, and Scorpius' tiny form was a mere outline in his arms. She prayed that she was far enough away to not be able to see the devastation that painted her features.

"Tell me what's going on. Now." His voice had a sharp edge to it.

She opened her mouth, the words she longed to sob to him bubbling to her lips. _Tell no one. How many do you think you can save?_ _You can't protect them all._ The note had said. She didn't know how the person — perhaps _persons_ — had entered, if they were still in the Manor, watching her, watching her children, _her husbands_ …how many could she save if she told, before it became too late?

"I've been working on the proposal for three days straight, Harry," she said instead. The tremble in her voice was low, but it was still present. "I'm just—" she paused, not wanting to speak too much and allow her abject terror to creep into her voice, "—overtired."

Harry was silent for a tense beat. "Hermione," he sighed. "You have been going nonstop and I'm worried about you. You have four children now and I've seen how you barely sleep. When you take shifts at the hospital you skip meals sometimes, too. I don't— I don't want to be controlling, but I'm still worried about you. I want to take care of you — and I want you to take care of yourself, too."

Her lips trembled as she held Carina closer. She pressed her lips into her daughter's hair, inhaling her scent. "I'm fine." Her voice was a whisper when she finally answered. "I think I just need some rest." She bit her lip. "Can you— can you bring Emma and the twins to my rooms?"

She saw Harry cock his head sideways. "Why—?"

"Please just—" she sucked in a shuddering breath, "please just bring them."

 **X**

Hermione paced in front of where her children lay in their cribs, her eyes roving over their faces. She'd already long since memorized their faces the way only a mother could, but could not pull her eyes away from them nonetheless. Only James lay awake, his eyes searching the darkness and occasionally fixating upon her when she stopped above him.

Even in the low light that filtered through the windows, the brilliant green of his eyes still made her breath catch. Now, though, it was fractured by a small sob. She'd long since had to put him down after holding him tightly for a long while — so long that he'd started to fuss and squirm until she'd put him down. The contents of the note replayed in her mind in a sickening loop. _How many do you think you can save?_ That, and little else: a number of galleons that represented nearly all she had in her account. A meeting place and a date that was only days from now.

"Pinky! Knobby!"

The elves appeared instantly, already shrinking back as they looked up at Hermione with wide eyes. "Yes, Mistress?" Pinky's voice was but a squeak.

"Stay with the children and _do not leave,"_ she said, already striding over to the doors.

She heard only their squeaks of acknowledgment before she strode out the doors. The halls were dark and silent as she strode down them, her dressing gown billowing behind her in her haste. She could practically feel the magic pulsing off of the gem that was crushed in her fist, cushioned only by the scrap of cashmere she'd wrapped it in.

She dragged open the library's doors and strode inside. She headed directly toward the sprawling shelves that loomed at the back of the cavernous room, bathed in constant shadow no matter if the rest of the room was bathed in daylight. She slowed as she approached them, the dark spines of the books whispering tales of the material that lay within them.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the first tome that appeared relevant. Before she even brushed the spine, however, the churning feeling in her stomach stopped her from pulling it down. Fear, she knew, was nothing but a mere delay to her in this moment. The time she would spend searching through the tomes would serve only to confirm what she already suspected.

With still trembling hands, she set the cloth down and let it fall open to reveal the gem. Lit only by the low light she'd ignited at the tip of her wand, it appeared even more menacing. The redness on the outside of the gem faded to near-black at its center. She forced her eyes shut and took a long, deep breath before she whispered an incantation that she'd once prayed she would never have to use again.

A cloud of swirling, depthless darkness floated above the gem.

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth to strangle her cry and the subsequent sobs that escaped. Fresh tears poured down her face, and the tremble that hadn't quite left her body since she'd found the note returned with renewed vigor as she scrambled backward until her back hit a shelf.

The curse that swirled in the cloud was a deeper, angrier black than what had lingered in her arm. Its depths were endless, representative of a cruelty that knew no limits. A curse that had been encased in the gem that had been suspended over her daughter, hanging by a thread that had broken with only a slight touch.

The cursed gem burst into a mass of glittering shards that stopped only millimetres from where she lay curled in a ball, screaming sobs into her fists.

 **X**

When her bedroom doors opened she sprang up from where she'd been perched on her bed, wand at the ready. When she caught sight of the figure in the doorway, she froze.

It was too dark to tell, but Hermione didn't doubt that Lucius had cocked an eyebrow. "May I ask what you are doing, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"You wouldn't answer if I asked you the same thing."

Lucius did not respond, but instead moved closer into the room, observing the line of cribs before Hermione. "I see that you've decided to quarantine your children," he said slowly before raising his eyes back to her. He'd stepped into a patch of moonlight, and she could now see the glimmer of silver as he appraised her. "May I ask why?"

"Who has access to the wards?" The words came out before she could stop herself. She'd grilled dozens of elves before she'd checked them herself a plethora of times.

Lucius didn't answer her and instead continued to appraise her in silence.

"I'm not in the mood for your games, Lucius," she clenched and unclenched her fists before letting out a breath, "just tell me."

"I was merely wondering why you've spent half the evening checking them yourself and the other half interrogating the elves," he said as he moved closer.

She clenched her jaw tight as he caught her chin and tilted it up. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?" he asked lowly. Her eyes were wide as he continued to look down at her in a gaze so penetrating that she scrambled to shield her mind with what little Occlumency skills she had.

 _How many do you think you can save?_

She could tell him. She could tell him because her husbands would be able to protect themselves faster than someone could hurt them, couldn't they? They'd survived _wars_.

But not without injury. Hermione's heart raced as she thought of Voldemort carrying Harry's limp body, siphoning the venom from Severus' wound as she watched the life bleed out of his eyes—

"Everything is fine, Lucius." She kept her jaw clenched tight so that it would not tremble, hoping he'd equate it with the anger she'd falsified in her voice.

Yet again, he was silent for a long beat. When he dropped her chin, she forced herself not to let out a sigh of relief.

"There are nine people who have access to our wards, in addition to our elves who are bound to the Malfoy family. No unauthorized persons have entered or will ever enter without my immediate knowledge. They are impenetrable."

He gave her one last appraising look— his eyes clearly communicating that while he did not believe her, he would not press her further— and stalked from the room.

 **X**

Hermione could feel eyes following her as she strode through the burnished bronze doors of Gringotts, her hands held tight around her beaded handbag as she tried to hide their trembling. Her low heels clicked overly loudly in her ears as she crossed the marble floor, passing the long counters filled with other customers. She kept her eyes trained steadily on her destination as she felt others turning and whispering as she passed.

It felt entirely too long before she strode up to a balding goblin that peered over its glasses at her with unbridled disdain. "Madam...Granger," the goblin drew out the word, punctuating his disapproval. "How may we be of service?"

Hermione resisted the urge to shrink back under the look that brewed in his dark, slanted eyes. "I would like to visit my vault."

"I see," he intoned, scrawling slowly on a parchment before him.

Hermione straightened. "With due haste, please," she said, meeting his eyes with a steady glare of her own.

The goblin peered at her over the glasses perched on the tip of his nose for a moment longer, meeting the challenge in her own eyes.

"Very well," he said. He still took his time to descend from his perch before he gestured to the door behind him. Their trip to the cart that awaited them was silent, and Hermione ignored the goblin's stiffness in place of trying to quell the unending churning in her stomach.

It felt entirely too long before they entered a cart and began descending down the winding passageways. Although Hermione's vault was a good ways into the depths of the bank, she was grateful that it was nowhere near the depths of where the larger vaults lay. By the time the cart lurched to a stop and the goblin was stepping out to pull open her vault, she felt ready to vomit from the feeling that hadn't ceased to plague her.

As she stepped into the vault and eyed the handsome piles of galleons she'd amassed between her Order of Merlin and her generous salary at St. Mungo's, the reality of what she'd been bidden to do rose up in her. She bit her lip to force herself to stop crying. She had to do this — _just_ this, she prayed — and it would soon be over. It would take nearly all the galleons she had — but she had it, and that was what mattered.

She took a deep breath and waved her wand to begin siphoning galleons into her beaded bag, the tall piles disappearing in moments. It was not long before only a smattering of galleons, knuts, and sickles lay scattered on the ground of the barren vault.

She didn't know if the goblin had noticed the near-empty state of the vault when she stepped out a moment later, his face blank and impassive as she stepped back into the cart and ordered him to return them to the surface.

 **X**

"Where are you going?" Hermione looked up to see Sirius leaning in the doorway of her closet, his eyes sweeping over her dark robes. "You look as stunning as ever."

"Thank you. I'm going to dinner with Parvati," she lied, her face blank and her voice robotic as she tried to secure the tie with a trembling hand and hoped he hadn't noticed.

Unfortunately, he had. He crossed over to her, an endearing smile still gracing his features as he stepped behind her. "Nervous, love?"

"No," she answered quickly, surprisingly herself with the steadiness of her voice. "Just a little tired."

Sirius slid gentle hands around her middle while he secured the tie for her. Normally the movement would have had her melting back into his arms, but in this moment it only made her want to stiffen further. She forced a smile onto her lips as she met his eyes in the mirror, wondering if he could see the deception reflected in them.

His hands moved to her shoulders, rubbing them gently. "You've been so tense lately, love," he said, planting a kiss on her exposed neck. "Are you certain all is well?"

She closed her eyes and pretended to lean into his touch while forcing down the words that threatened to spill forth. She wanted nothing more than to bury herself in his arms and tell him everything—

 _How many do you think you can save? You can't protect them all._ She thought of the raw, gut-wrenching feeling in her chest as she'd learned Sirius had died...

"I'm fine," she breathed, pulling away from him.

He frowned, catching her fingers before she could pull away completely. "Hermione—"

"I'm going to be late," she said, crossing to snatch up her beaded handbag and disapparating before he could say another word.

She landed on the familiar cobblestone of Diagon Alley, taking a deep breath before she looked at the pub across her. It was filled with patrons, their laughter and conversation spilling onto the street as a happy couple stumbled out the doors.

Steeling her nerves, Hermione crossed over and caught the door before it closed. From the corner of her eye, she caught the woman twist in her date's arms as she caught sight of Hermione before whispering excitedly to him.

Hermione forced herself to ignore them and step into the crowded pub. There would be no hiding her appearance on this night. Her eyes were sharp as she scanned the crowd, looking for even a whiff of nefarious intent. All that she saw looked normal and merry, infected by each others' merriment as they partook in the relaxation only a Friday night could bring. The deeper she stepped into the pub, the more patrons began to notice her and whisper about her. She felt frightfully exposed as she strode over to the last stool at the far end of the bar as she had been instructed. Her every nerve felt aflame as she tried to concentrate on analyzing each individual that passed as the energy in the room seemed the shift toward her.

A tap on her shoulder had her whipping her head sideways, her wand brandished at the ready while still tucked surreptitiously under the tabletop as she met the wide blue eyes of a young woman.

"Miss Gra— Mrs. Potter," the woman's voice trembled as she met Hermione's wild eyes. "I wanted to ask for an autograph if you don't mind?"

Hermione forced herself not to snap at the woman. "I'm sorry but right now isn't—"

"Herm-own-ninny?" The booming voice had her twisting to her other side as she saw none other than Viktor Krum smiling widely at her. "It iz you!"

"Viktor," Hermione barely managed to force a smile. Her heart hammered as she swept her eyes around them, hyper-aware of the renewed interest the crowd had taken in them. Somehow the number of patrons in the pub had managed to double, and nearly all were focused on Hermione and Viktor. The crowd had already begun to swell toward them as the excited murmurs grew louder, and she caught the flash of a camera that had her blinking rapidly in confusion.

"You are as beautiful as I remember," he said, stepping closer to plant two kisses onto her cheeks. "I vant—" He stumbled as the crowd pressed closer and people began to shout at them for autographs. Somehow, several more cameras had appeared, the constant flashes causing Hermione's vision to swim with dizzying lights.

Viktor's brow furrowed in concern. "Let me help you," Viktor said as he watched her expression, sliding her off of the stool with a firm hand on her back.

"No—" She tried to protest as more people pressed closer to them. Her vision was assaulted with flashing lights and excited, smiling faces as quills were held out to her and various hands grasped her, trying to tug her in various directions despite Victor's efforts to block them. "I have to—"

She gasped as two excited witches grasped at her robes. "You're incredible, really— Can we have an autogr—"

The crowd surged forward once more, and Hermione tripped, stumbling to her knees. Immediately, several hands moved to help her up. Her bag slipped from her hands and she tried to tear away and throw herself back to the ground in search of it.

She couldn't see, she couldn't see anything as her eyes flew to the sea of legs gathered around her, searching desperately for her bag—

Viktor's strong arm pulled her up. "Are you alright, Herm-own-ninny? I—"

"No!" Her shout was swallowed by the excited cries of the people crowded around them. Lights continued to flash around her, blinding her. She needed to find the person, wound them, _mark_ them in some way that would ensure that she could find them later. _There_. She made to dive down after the bag again, fighting the crowd that continued to surge around her—

She caught only the glimmer of one of the beads as the bag was snatched away by an unseen hand. No. No, _nonono_ —

The flashes of cameras and excitement continued around her, all ignorant of the terror that gripped her heart.

 **X**

Hermione sat on her bed, twisting her hand back and forth as she flexed her fingers. No matter which way she moved her fingers, they were still numb. Her mind replayed the scene of her bag slipping from between them on a sickening loop. She was supposed to have caught them. Tracked them, grabbed them — done something, _anything_ other than letting them just slip away. She was Hermione Granger. She'd never fumbled like this before — she'd always found a way. She felt like she was falling, the shattered fragments of her life slipping through her fingers before she could even attempt to grasp them. And her fingers…

She rubbed them together, feeling nothing as her fingertips brushed each other. She cast yet another diagnostic spell that showed only inconclusive results. Had she truly just dropped it? She knew nothing for certain anymore. Only that she'd been holding onto the bag with everything she had, and then…and then…

She'd been confunded.

At the same moment that her mind drew the conclusion, her door opened. She looked up to see Sirius standing in the doorframe, his face devoid of any emotion as he watched her silently for a moment.

"You missed breakfast," he said when he finally spoke.

She stood and tightened her dressing gown, tucking her hands into her sides to hide their trembling. "I got in late."

He gave her another long, blank look. "How was your evening with Parvati?"

She looked out the window, not wanting to meet his piercing gaze as she lied. "It was fine."

"I see." There was another pause before he spoke again. "We're having a family meeting in the drawing-room. Come down when you're ready." He left without another word.

Her head throbbed. She considered feigning illness for a moment before she wavered. She needed to know more before she could do anything about what was happening, and for now that included feigning normalcy as well.

She Apparated into the drawing-room to find the room nearly completely silent. Panic rose within her as she looked around at her husbands. "Where—" she sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes flying around the room, "where are the children? What's—"

Lucius held up a hand to silence her. "The children are fine," he said. "They are with Knobby in Carina's nursery."

Just Knobby? The pounding of her heart did not cease. One elf wasn't enough, they needed—

She stopped short as Severus flicked his wand and sent the paper that had been sitting on an end table flying into her hands. The front page was plastered with a large photograph of Hermione and Viktor Krum. It played an endless loop of him leaning in while her eyes shifted nervously before he leaned in before his head concealed hers. From this angle, it looked entirely as though he was kissing her. The headline was equally damning. She managed only to skim the first couple of lines speculating as to whether Krum had returned to Britain solely for Quidditch or to pine after his lost love.

Hermione's jaw dropped open as she looked up at her husbands. "This isn't— I didn't— the bonding magic would never allow me to—"

Draco stood from where he'd been perched on an armchair at the back of the room, stewing silently. "It doesn't matter what the bloody magic does or does not allow!"

Harry glared at Draco before turning to Hermione. "We know that— the public knows that, but—"

Draco returned Harry's glare. "You are our wife and you've made us look like bloody fools—"

Lucius cut him off. "As the current matriarch of the Malfoy family, you have certain duties to uphold. _Appearances_ to maintain. I will not have you traipsing about with your former lovers like an insolent child!"

"I am no child," Hermione shot back. "Nothing happened with Viktor—" she stopped short as she felt her throat closing as the memories of the previous night assaulted her once more.

Lucius glared at her. "It does not matter what did or did not happen between you. What matters is that we are the most high profile family in Britain and the face of the Marriage Law. We do not need to bring any more scrutiny upon ourselves than we already have!"

"There are some of us that wish to live out the rest of our lives in relative obscurity. Being constantly plastered on the papers is not conducive to this," Severus clipped.

"It was never my choice to have us thrust into the spotlight!" She crossed her arms. "I can't help that certain things have slipped out, but I have always done my utmost—"

"No one is accusing you of anything, Hermione," Kingsley's smooth baritone cut in. "We have been receiving owls asking for statements all morning. We thought it would be best to put out a single statement as a family."

Kinglsey's words faded into the background as Hermione met Sirius' eyes. Now that she knew, she could see the hurt and betrayal reflected in his eyes. She'd stood there and lied to him twice. The truth lay plastered on the morning's Prophet that was still crushed in her fingers.

Her eyes felt hot as tears pricked her eyes. It was all too much. "There are twelve people— twelve people, other than me in this family. Twelve and I'm only one person, and I'm doing my best to protect—to protect—" she faltered as her voice broke, "—to protect our image. I don't want any harm to come to any of you—"

She faltered. Now was her chance. Her husbands were all gathered before her. Surely enough of them could Apparate in time to gather the children. All of her husbands were seasoned fighters, Aurors, war heroes. Former Death Eaters. If she told them, right this moment, there was a chance that they'd be fine. There was also a chance that someone could get injured, or worse. Could she risk even one of her husbands getting hurt? She looked around at all of them, imagining who she could live without if it _did_ happen—

She couldn't.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she took a deep, shuddering breath and turned away. "I'm sorry," she choked. "I'm sorry and I— I just need a moment."

She turned and fled before anyone could utter a protest.

* * *

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	47. Chapter 47

**IMPORTANT: Please note that the original chapter 46 has been rewritten. It has been lengthened for clarity, and scenes from 47 have also been moved up and integrated within the chapter. Please re-read before reading this chapter so that you can fully understand 47. The A/N below has also been included on 46: **

Hi everyone,

The 46 rewrite is a little unconventional for me — I apologize for any confusion. I understand that some of you were confused by the last chapter, and the last thing I want is for readers to feel that way. In trying to capture a certain tone, I realize I may have missed the mark a bit in clarifying exactly what was occurring. I hope this rewrite will shed more light for you all. This fic means a lot to me, and all of your support means the world to me as well.

This fic has always had an outline, which includes a specific direction and set of events that'll be unfolding in a specific way. The events of 46 have always been a part of my outline, and this is not something that I've thrown in halfheartedly, etc. I am sorry that the direction of the fic has disappointed some of you, but I want to thank you for following this far regardless — it means a lot to me that I had your support at any point, regardless of how you may feel now.

 **As always, thank you to RESimon for being such a fantastic beta.**

 **Chapter warning: There is some violence in this chapter.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN**

"Neville," Hermione's voice came out in a strangled whisper. "Wait."

He paused above her, his cock perched at her entrance as he looked down at her. "Yeah?"

Hermione bit her lip, struggling to keep the tears that threatened to spring forth at bay. "I— it's nothing." She turned her face into his bicep and tried to pull him closer, urging him to continue.

He sighed and rolled off of her. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked into her eyes. "Hermione."

His eyes were so open and honest that it took all of her willpower to twist away. "I'm fine." Her voice was as robotic as it has been the other half dozen times he'd asked her if she was alright that night.

He cupped her cheek and coaxed her to turn back to him. "Look at me. Please."

She allowed herself only a brief look at his wide brown irises before she burrowed into his chest. "'Mfine," she mumbled into his skin. "I promise." The lie felt like poison on her tongue.

"Why won't you talk to me?" The pain in his voice broke her heart even further. "You've been so afraid of your own shadow for a week now. It's scaring me, Hermione. I feel like..." he paused and swallowed, "I feel like I'm losing you."

Had it already been a week? It felt as though she'd been swimming underwater for months, constantly looking over her shoulder for the next threat.

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from sobbing into his chest. "You're not." She'd tried to keep the tremble out of her voice but it was unmistakably there anyway.

Neville pulled her closer and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I just want you to be happy."

The sob Hermione bit back vibrated in her chest. "I am."

Neville tried to shift her to look at him again but she only held herself more firmly into his chest. "Is it about the article? _Most_ of us know that was nothing, and those gits were just being a little testy is all. We all know that the magic wouldn't allow it — the public just wants a good story. And besides, the press has already moved on, it's been nearly a week—"

He cut off as she shook her head. "It's not that," Hermione mumbled into his chest.

He kissed her hair. "Is it just...everything? Are you overwhelmed?"

She paused before nodded against his skin.

"We're all here to help you with the children. And the elves. And you can work as much as you want until they make you stop beca—" he faltered. "Is that it then? That you're not pregnant yet?"

Her heart stuttered in her chest. She rubbed her legs together, wondering if he'd been able to feel the cool slickness of the gel she'd bought from a Muggle chemist that she'd taken care to spread deep inside her cunt. The gel that she'd been using consistently for the past week since her life had been upended. An unseen threat loomed in the shadows, and she knew that she couldn't get pregnant — not while she still knew nothing. She couldn't protect an unborn child, too.

His arms tightened around her as he continued, oblivious to her true inner turmoil. "They haven't rejected the proposal yet, which means that you might not need to worry about that for a while. I don't mind waiting a few years for us to have our first, really."

She bit back another sob. He couldn't wait for them to have their first, and here she was, actively trying to delay that for as long as she possibly could.

He smiled and folded a hand over her stomach. "I think that bit of the proposal was a great idea, actually. You've already had half as many children as they need from you, so you should be given that freedom if you need it, and—"

"I love you, Neville." She sobbed the words against his chest and they were near-incoherent, but she knew he'd heard them from the way he'd frozen beneath her.

"Hermione?" his voice was a whisper. This time, she let him pull her away further enough that he could look into her eyes.

She felt it, she felt it with every fiber of her being and the lies — all the _lies_ — made the confession cut like a knife as it made its way out of her mouth. "I love you, I love you more than words can express, Neville Longbottom. I love—"

He swallowed her words with an intense kiss. She felt his happy tears mingling with her devastated ones as they kissed. She tried to lose herself in the kiss, to lose herself in the love she had for him and the love she felt from him in return.

"Let go," he breathed against her skin as he pressed kisses into her neck, "let it all go. Just for this moment. Let it go and just be with me."

"I'll try," she whispered into his skin even as tears continued to wet her cheeks, "I'll try."

 **X**

Two days later, she entered her closet to see her beaded bag sitting on the closet floor.

A part of her had been expecting it, but it didn't stop her from crumpling to the ground, her eyes locked on it. Every frantic spell she cast on and around everything — the bag, the closet, her room — turned up nothing. Nothing at all, save for the single note inside of the bag. Once again, it listed a number of galleons as well as a meeting place.

The meeting time was for that evening.

This time, the number of galleons it listed was double what she'd had before she'd emptied her vault the first time, and now she had nothing. Her heart started to race as the gravity of what she would have to do next dawned on her. It was a threat she'd hoped to have contained, to have subdued and exposed her attacker before things got even more out of her control, but she could not stop the way things had spiraled.

She would have to get the money from one of her husbands. She had yet to ask any of them for even a galleon, and even if she had asking for this amount at once would be certain to rouse their suspicions. She couldn't — she wouldn't—

But she had to. She knew that she had access to all of her husbands' vaults. The Malfoys, she knew, would miss it the least. The amounts of galleons she'd spied on the scant few occasions she'd peeked at the records Lucius and Draco went through had been eye-watering on their own. It was for that reason that she knew that she couldn't risk taking it from them. They would notice, and she couldn't say how quickly it would happen. Sirius was her next option. He was wealthy, but she also knew little of how he managed his finances. Kingsley was similar. Neville, perhaps, would take a little longer to notice. Had he separated his own vault from the greater Longbottom vault? She couldn't say. Hermione couldn't risk Augusta bursting through the floo and demanding where thousands of galleons had disappeared to.

Which left one last husband. A husband who, despite being independently wealthy, paid little attention to the mountains of gold that were in his vault.

An hour later, her ears were filled with the echoes of her footsteps on Gringotts' marble floor once again. This time, she barely registered the stares as she walked past, her eyes set on the open teller at the end of the row. As her luck would have it, it was the same goblin as it had been the week before. He still wore the same disdainful look, peering at her over his glasses as she stopped in front of him.

"Madam...Granger," his beady eyes flitted over her, "what a... _pleasure_ to see you again so soon." He spoke with an air of someone who felt anything but.

Hermione's lip thinned into a hard line as she tilted her chin up. "You appear to have forgotten that I have access to all of your largest vaults. If I recall correctly, I am one of the clients with the most galleons stored here. I expect to be treated as such, no matter what you may continue to hold against me."

The goblin blinked at her, his quill frozen over the page in front of him. She caught the slight twitch in his expression as he forced himself to keep his composure. "What may I do for you today?" he asked after a beat of silence. His voice still contained a hint of false sweetness.

"I would like to access the Potter family vault."

 **X**

Hermione slid out of the bed, careful not to jostle Harry where he slept. She tiptoed into her closet and dressed before glamouring her cloak into a long dressing gown that swept out behind her as she moved.

When she stepped back into the room, Harry was sitting up and rubbing his eyes as he squinted at her. "Hermione?" His voice was a groggy croak.

She crossed back over to the bed and folded a hand over his to stop him from retrieving his spectacles off of the night table. "Go back to sleep."

"'Mione—"

"Shh, I'm just going to check on the children." The lies had gotten so easy that she was beginning to believe them herself. She paused over James' crib at her bedside, giving the sleeping infant a long kiss on the forehead. "Mummy loves you," she whispered, "more than you'll ever know."

She straightened at looked at Harry. "I might sleep with Emma for the rest of the night," she lied again. "Will you stay with James?"

Harry nodded. "Of course. 'Mione—"

She stopped him with a quick peck. "I love you," she said as she stood and crossed the room. "So much," she added over her shoulder before she hurried out the door. She didn't wait for Harry's response and instead Apparated to the hall where the childrens' nurseries were. After finding Draco asleep in a rocking chair with Scorpius in his arms. Carina was with her father in his rooms, which left only Emma to be accounted for.

She entered Emma's nursery to find her sleeping peacefully on the floor, wrapped in a mound of blankets. A wide-eyed Knobby looked up as Hermione entered, swallowing as he watched Hermione's eyes land on Emma.

"Y-young Mistress is not wanting to sleep in her crib. We is trying for a long tim—"

"It's fine, Knobby," Hermione said. "The other children are with their fathers for the night. You may retire for the evening."

Kobby blinked at her. Hermione had yet to dismiss the rotation of elves from keeping constant watch over the children when she was away since the night things had horribly wrong, but on this night she wanted them all with their fathers. She wouldn't be able to leave without seeing it for herself.

She bent and gathered her sleeping daughter into her arms. Hermione unfolded the blanket Emma was wrapped in until she could see her daughter's dark blonde curls and peacefully sleeping face. Her heart throbbed with the love she felt for her child, the reminder of it propelling each step she took as she crossed the Manor and descended into the dungeons.

Severus was putting away a cauldron when she approached. He paused as he caught sight of her.

"Will you keep Emma for the night?" she asked as she moved closer to him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"She'll be more comfortable with you."

Severus did not answer but instead kept his eyebrow cocked in question.

"Just for the night," she said, unable to keep the note of pleading out of her voice. "Please."

Severus stepped closer, his eyes sliding from their sleeping daughter to Hermione. "Tell me why."

"If you must know, I'd like to spend the night with Harry tonight."

Severus' lip curled. "And she could not remain in her nursery the way she has countless other nights for the past twenty months of her life?" He stepped closer and Hermione held Emma out, partly so that he would take her, and mostly so that she could shield herself from his scrutiny.

He took Emma and tucked her into his chest. His eyes never left Hermione. She watched his eyes sharpen as he scanned her attire. It felt as though he could see straight through her, and Hermione's eyes widened in shock as she realized what he was about to do—

"Severus, don't—" She cut off her protest as he waved his hand at her dressing gown. The illusion melted away, revealing the traveling cloak she wore beneath.

She gritted her teeth together angrily. "You had no right—"

" _You_ have no right to lie to me!" At his raised tone, Emma started to stir and fuss in his arms, but he only held her tighter. "You have been lying and skulking about—"

"You do not need to be privy to every aspect of my private affairs!"

"You are my _wife!_ "

On any other occasion, his outburst would have given her pause. In this moment, however, it did nothing but inflame her anger. "But I am not your property! Has it ever occurred to you that I might be going out with one of my other husbands—"

Severus scoffed. "Is that so? Shall I fetch Mr. Potter and ask him myself, then?"

Hermione mashed her mouth shut, still glaring at him.

"As I suspected. Get out of my sight." He turned on his heel and strode toward the door that lead to his chambers.

"Severus," she called in a soft, pleading voice.

He paused. There was a beat of silence before he scoffed. "Shall I go ask him then? Perhaps I should rouse them all and inquire as to whether any of them know exactly where our dearest wife has been slipping off to."

She could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves. Would he actually do it? She couldn't say if he would, but the rage that she'd seen twisting his features gave her pause. She couldn't manage it if most of her husbands came out looking for her, leaving the children in the care of only one or two others and the elves—

Her fingers trembled as she lifted her wand and pointed it at the back of his head. She needed to leave, and she couldn't rouse any more suspicions. "Obliv—"

Severus whirled on her before she could finish getting the word out, wand at the ready. "You would _dare_ —!" He stalked toward her and she scrambled back and out the doorway.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm sorry—"

The last thing she saw before she disapparated was the rage twisting her husband's features as he clutched their child to his chest.

 **X**

She landed in an alleyway adjacent to Borgin and Burke's. It was so dark that she could not see even the puffs of her breath before her in the chilly March air. Still, she hesitated at the thought of casting even the smallest _Lumos_.

She felt along the brick wall nearest her until she reached the entrance to the alleyway. Under the open air, the stretch of Knockturn Alley was lit only by a select few braziers that dotted the street. A scant few similarly cloaked figures skulked along nearby and gave her a wide berth as they passed. It did not stop her from tugging the hood of her cloak down further. Sounds of raucous laughter floated toward her as she approached a seedy pub. She was careful to avoid the lights that spilled through the windows as she slipped into the alleyway adjacent to the bar. A quick detection spell confirmed that she was alone.

The alleyway was shrouded in silence save for her heavy breaths as she waited.

Each second that stretched by felt like an eternity. The resounding silence only amplified the sound of her heart thrumming in her ears, and—

There.

It was but a shimmer in the air, an absence of sound although there has been none in the first place that alerted her to the second presence that entered the alleyway.

" _Petrificus totalus!"_ She shouted the words before the other person could take another step.

Still, she was too slow. Her attacker dodged the spell, with ease and it crashed into the brick wall behind them.

A shimmer of angry red light sailed past her head as she barely dodged it. Her next spell grazed her attacker, and their silhouette became more corporeal as they ran and dodged it. The person cursed loudly, and the sound was distinctly male. His disillusionment spell had melted away as they'd dueled, but his face was still mostly cloaked by the darkness they were shrouded in. She heard his low chuckle as her cutting charm grazed his hair, sending a handful of it floating to the ground. He probably thought she'd missed. She hadn't.

" _Cruci—"_ The man's voice cut off as she sent a hex at him that caught him in his wand arm.

He growled angrily before he threw an object onto the ground before him. It gleamed in the air between them before it landed on the ground before them. It took only a split second for her to recognize that it was a portkey.

As he lunged toward it, she shouted the first spell that came to mind: " _Diffindo!"_

It caught his thigh. He screamed and fell to the ground. He snarled and raised his wand, but her own spell was quicker. The wand flew into her outstretched hand. Before she could make another move, he snatched her by the ankle and dragged her down to the ground.

His fingers closed around her neck. The pressure of it was doubled by the invisible force of a spell he muttered, and she felt spots swimming in her vision as he shuttered her airway. From this close, she could see his features clearly. She didn't recognize him, and she didn't doubt his features had been glamoured. She was fading fast, and the free hand that she used to claw at her neck did nothing to affect his iron grip on her throat. _"Mudblood bitch,"_ the man seethed, pressing down harder.

Her hand that still held the wands fast was crushed beneath her body, and she desperately tried to dislodge them as she tried to suck in ragged breaths. With the last of the strength she could muster, she threw herself sideways. It was just enough to loosen his grip a fraction — just enough for her to dislodge the wands and lift hers.

A wordless stupefy sent him flying onto his back. He landed directly atop the portkey he'd dropped earlier, and his body disappeared instantly.

The sounds in the alley had switched from chaos to silence. Silence, save for Hermione's ragged breaths as she tried to make sense of what had just occurred. There was sudden booming laughter and she snapped up her head to see two men stumbling into the alleyway, fiddling with their wands as they tried to disapparate.

"Oi!" One of the men slurred, squinting into the darkness. "D'you hear somethi—"

Hermione summoned the attacker's hairs that she'd cut into her pocket and disapparated before the drunken man could say another word.

 **X**

She landed in a heap in one of the sitting rooms. The room was peaceful and undisturbed, and a fire burned in the sweeping fireplace across from her. It was silent save for her still-ragged breaths. Her fingers ached from how tightly she gripped the two wands in her fist, and she had to concentrate to make herself put them in her cloak's pocket.

She heard footsteps approaching from the hall. Her heart started to race with renewed vigor as she forced herself to fly into action, casting a quick cleansing charm over herself and standing just as Severus appeared in the doorway.

He looked frightful.

His hair was askew, and his already pale skin appeared ghostly. His clothing was completely disheveled, and the top buttons of his shirt looked to have been torn open in haste. His eyes were wild.

" _Where have you been?"_ His hiss terrified her. She'd grown used to an angry lilt in his voice over the years, but she had never before encountered the unbridled rage she heard in it now.

It took her a moment to gather herself. She folded her features into a mask of irritation, hoping he could not see through it. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse. "You waited up for me? You—" she cut off with a cough, trying to rub surreptitiously at her throat.

He crossed the room in two long strides. His eyes flicked over her slowly, and she watched his pale skin flush red. "Where. Have. You. _Been?!"_

Hermione swallowed. "I needed space, I was getting fresh ai—" She cut off as he snatched her arm and started dragging her out of the room.

"Severus!" she tried to pry off his iron grip in vain. "Let go of me!" He stopped them in front of a mirror. He snatched back her air, simultaneously forcing her chin up and exposing her neck.

The two bright red handprints that bloomed there were unmistakable.

Her breath stopped as she met his wild eyes in the mirror. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she would utter a word she heard footsteps.

"Hermione?!" She turned her wide eyes to see Neville standing a few feet away. He looked even wilder than Severus. He was frozen mid-step, and his eyes were locked on her neck.

Severus caught Hermione by the arm again and dragged her past Neville and into the room beyond he had stepped out of. Inside stood all of her husbands. Each one of them looked wild and dishevelled, as if they had been dragged out of their beds unbidden.

Hermione's mouth fell open at the sight. "Wha—" She cut off as Sirius ran up and wrapped her in his arms.

"I thought you'd died," he said into her hair. "I felt it happening, I felt it, and I thought you were _gone_ —" He pulled back and roamed her face with a desperate look in his eyes, his hands roaming every inch of her skin.

The rest of her husbands had approached and were gathered around them. Sirius stepped back, and when he did there was blood smeared on his chest and staining his pajama bottoms.

"Hermione," Harry gasped, and she turned to see him looking from her neck to the blood on Sirius. "What happened?! Where were you?!"

She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sob. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I'm sorry— where are the children? I need to see them I need to know if they're alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

She continued to sob and plead with them as she was herded over to a chair. "Please," she grabbed Arthur's hand. His face was blurred by her tears. "Please, I need to see my children, _please_ —"

"They're fine, Hermione," Kingsley said as he eased off her cloak. "We promise they're fine—" He paused as he vanished her shirt and the long, bloody cut along her arm was exposed. She hadn't even known it was there, and her eyes widened at the sight.

The room was a chaotic frenzy of energy around her as her husbands fussed about her. A potion was shoved into her hands and she lifted it to her lips robotically before another hand snatched it away.

"A pregnancy detection spell is necessary first," Severus clipped.

When he cast the spell and her stomach glowed white, her tears began anew. "I— I—" She couldn't see straight, couldn't think straight—

It was Lucius' fingers dragging her by the chin until she faced him that made her focus. His eyes were swimming with rage and another emotion she couldn't place. "Where did you get this?"

In his other hand was a wand that she didn't recognize. She blinked at it through her tears. "I don't know—"

"It was in your pocket!" His eyes looked almost wild.

Oh. _Oh._

"Stop it," Kingsley's tone was hard. "She's terrified—"

There was a sharp intake of breath on her other side, and Severus snatched her by the shoulder and twisted her toward him. "Where did you get that wand?"

His voice was tinged with an alarm she was so unused to hearing that renewed tears began leaking down her face. "I— He tried— I didn't—"

" _Where were you?"_ Lucius' voice was laced with tension, and when he exchanged a long look with Severus, Hermione's heart began to race faster.

"I— I was—" Her throat still burned and the words caught in her throat as she tried to process what was happening before her.

"Who does it belong to?" Arthur cut in.

There was a beat of tense silence before Lucius responded. "Rabastan Lestrange."

* * *

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	48. Chapter 48

**All the kudos go out to RESimon for putting up with me. You're a gem and I don't deserve you.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT**

Neville was the first to speak. "The Lestranges are dead."

"Indeed, Mr. Longbottom," Severus said, turning to look at Harry and Kingsley. "Or so we believed."

"Hermione," Harry's spoke through gritted teeth, "where were you?"

When she answered, her voice was less than a whisper. "I met him."

Lucius' eyes narrowed. "Speak _up—"_

"You _met_ him? Hermione—" Neville's voice sharpened before he faltered. "You need to explain because I— _we_ — understand none of this."

Hermione looked up at the men gathered around her. Her eyes traveled over their expressions, all of which were teeming with barely restrained — and some less so — anger. "I'm sorry," she said, looking down at her feet once again.

Cool fingers jerked her up by her chin. "Your apologies mean nothing at the moment." Severus' voice was tense and clipped, and his black eyes were piercing as they narrowed on her neck.

One of Hermione's hands snaked up to her neck, feebly trying to cover the harsh red marks she'd seen blooming there earlier. "I'm sorry," she said again. Her words were useless, and she felt equally so.

Severus caught her hand and pulled it away from her neck. "You will speak on this. _Immediately."_

"Severus," Arthur's calm voice cut in, "she will. Just… give her a little space."

On any other occasion, Hermione would have been surprised when Severus paused before acquiescing. At this moment, however, she still felt numb.

"Granger."

This time, Hermione looked up to meet Draco's eyes. They were dark, and one of his hands rubbed at his neck. His other hand was outstretched, twitching toward her before he stopped and folded it back against his side. It stayed tightly balled in a fist. "Are you alright?"

Hermione swallowed. "He threatened my _child_ ," her voice broke over the words.

Draco stiffened. "He threatened—?"

Harry looked sick. "What did you just say?"

There was a crack of Apparation as someone disappeared.

"How?"

"Impossible, the wards are impenetrable—"

"When could have— the children barely leave the confines of our wards as it is—"

There was another crack of Apparation, followed by two others, and Hermione's eyes locked on the four bundles wrapped in Kingsley and two elves' arms. "They're here. They're safe," Kingsley said.

Severus snatched Emma from one of the elves' arms and dismissed him with a wave while the other meekly handed Carina to Lucius before disapparating herself.

Scorpius started to squirm in Kingsley's tense grip, and Hermione burst into tears again. She watched Harry and Draco take their sons from his arms, holding them tightly to their chests. She pressed a trembling hand into her belly. She knew she couldn't feel anything of the child growing there yet, but felt hyper-aware of it nonetheless.

"Hermione," Neville took her hand and wiped at her face with his free one. "Hermione, please."

"Give her room," Arthur said, sitting down on her other side. Some of the men shifted back minutely, but their hovering tension did not abate.

Hermione took in a slow, deep breath. "He got in here. He was here, somehow. Past all the wards, past everything. He went into her room. He went into her room and—" her voice broke, but she persisted, "he went into her room and _he touched her,_ and he put it right there, right above her—"

" _He threatened my child?"_ Severus' tone was murderous, and when Hermione looked up at him the look in his eyes was doubly terrifying.

Hermione's eyes were already locked on Carina, and when she raised them to meet Lucius' she saw the horrified understanding that shone in his own eyes. " _My_ child?" Lucius' hiss was loud in the stunned silence. "He dared to touch _my_ child?"

"Why didn't you say anything?" Harry's eyes were guarded.

"I couldn't."

"You couldn't— someone threatened Carina, could have threatened my son, and you _couldn't_? You—" Draco cut off and started rocking Scorpius as he started to fuss.

"What possessed you not to tell us?" Kingsley pressed. "We could have protected you, protected the children."

Lucius stepped in front of Kingsley and cut in, his voice low and urgent. "When did this happen?! I've had her all evening—"

"Last week."

This time, the silence that fell felt depthless, consuming every sound in the room save for the hammering of her heart and her quiet sobs.

"A week." Neville's voice was toneless. His hand slid from where it held hers and into his lap.

"I couldn't tell," she sobbed, her words coming out garbled. "I couldn't."

"Why couldn't you— I don't understand," Arthur's voice faltered.

Sirius had started pacing and was worrying a hand through his dark waves. "What could he have possibly said to you? What could possibly make you not say a word and—" he paused, his eyes sharpening as he looked at her. "All the lying. This— this was why?"

"He threatened—"

"So you decided to tell no one? Because he threatened you?" Severus spoke through gritted teeth. "Has it ever occurred to you that we could have protected you? Protected the children?"

"I couldn't—"

"Stop saying that!" Even though she'd long been prepared for something like this, Harry's outburst still startled her. "We are here, and we all could have protected you! I'm an Auror, Kingsley's been a bloody Auror, we _all_ fought in the war, we all could have protected you, protected Carina!"

Hermione's lip trembled as she spoke. "The risk—"

"You're not in bloody Hogwarts anymore!" Sirius cut her off sharply. "You can't just run around and ignore every opportunity to ask for aid and try and resolve things yourself. Now is not the time to be running around and trying to get yourself killed at every moment!"

"Which is precisely what you've done on this eve," Severus added. "Or need we remind you that you almost got us killed, too?" His free hand ghosted over his neck.

"I'm sorry." She had yet to be able to stifle her sobs. "I was scared, so scared—"

"We wouldn't have died," Kingsley interjected. "It would have been... excruciating, but we would not have died with her."

"You _knew_ this could happen?" Draco asked, incredulous. Draco rubbed at his throat with his free hand. There wasn't even a hint of redness on the expanse of smooth pale skin, but he moved as though he'd crossed paths with death. She supposed that was what her being choked had felt like for him. Her heart panged at the thought.

Kingsley nodded solemnly. "We thought it best not to divulge the information to avoid undue distress on the citizens. The risks we took in using this bonding magic were great."

"You've said your loyalties lie with this family. Why would you keep something like this from us? It felt— it felt—"

"How could we have explained to people that if your wife were to die, you would feel like you were dying too?" Arthur said. "It will eventually happen to all of us… although I'd hoped to go first, Hermione."

"He got into Carina's room. He waited until the elves left, and he suspended a cursed gem over her head. And he—" Hermione hiccuped, "—he put a note underneath her. It said that if I told anyone... if I told anyone, I couldn't protect you all. And I—"

"Couldn't protect us all?" Sirius loomed over her, his eyes burning with rage. "Are you even listening to yourself?!"

"You could have asked any one of us to secretly leave the Manor with you. You could have told us, we could have formulated a plan!" Harry's face reddened as he spoke.

"And what if he had followed me?" Hermione asked. "What if he had been tracking all of us the way he was me? What if he'd _imperiused_ one of the elves? What if—"

" _What if?"_ Lucius cut her off sharply. "The possibilities of those what-ifs are so minimal as to be considered nearly inconsequential. You made a _choice_ , wife."

"I couldn't," Hermione met his eyes, wishing she could catch even a flicker of understanding in them. There was none. "I couldn't choose— what if he had gotten to one of you? I couldn't risk it, and I couldn't choose who I could live without, I can't live without any of you, I can't, I can't—"

"Shh," Arthur pulled her close as she choked off.

Hermione's eyes strayed to Neville, who had yet to move since he'd dropped her hand. "Neville?" she called tentatively. She reached out to touch him, but he flinched away.

When he spoke, his voice was dark. "You're pregnant, do you realize that?"

Hermione suspected her tears would never stop falling. She pressed a hand into her still-flat abdomen once again, feeling a sickening lurch in her chest as she thought of the innocent child that grew there. "I'm not supposed to be," she said in a whisper. "I wasn't when I checked this morning, I swear it—" But she was a Healer, and she knew that such cases of detection were extremely rare — but not unheard of.

"What do you mean you weren't supposed to be?" Kingsley's expression had frozen.

" _What have you done?"_ Severus' eyes narrowed on her stomach.

"I've been using a Muggle contraceptive. The chances of it working were slim, but I was desperate—"

Neville flew upright. " _Stop._ " His fists clenched tightly before he released them. "Just— stop." He crossed to the other side of the room and slammed a fist into the wall.

"If the Ministry finds out—"

"They won't, Harry. They won't."

" _And if they do?"_

Draco worried a hand through his hair. "You could have been killed, Granger. Do you understand that?"

"I know." She swallowed, the movement riddled with memories of Rabastan's hands clenching around her throat. "He threatened my children. My husbands. I didn't know what he could do, who he was working with, if I could guarantee your safety—"

"Things you could have known if you'd notified the Aurors—" Harry interjected.

Hermione shook her head. "He wanted me, Harry. Just me. "

Draco scoffed. "And how can you be certain of that?"

"The string that held the cursed gem over Carina's crib ...I didn't know until I checked again, but it was charmed to break if _I_ touched it. Only me. He knew that I would come next, somehow, and the money—"

Draco's eyes narrowed. " _What money?"_

Hermione twisted her fingers together and looked in her lap. "I gave him everything I had. I gave him everything, and he wanted more, so I—"

"He wanted money?" Arthur took her hands in his. "You gave him all of your money?"

"How much did he ask for? What could he possibly need it for?"

There was a brief, stunned silence when Hermione mumbled the amount.

Hermione's lip trembled. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry, so sorry, I had to take it, I couldn't risk it, but he didn't get it. I still have it—"

"You had to take what, 'Mione? I don't understand, he took everything you had?"

"Money," she whispered. "From your vault." Hermione kept her eyes steadily trained on her lap, too ashamed to steal even a glance at her husband.

It was his fingers on her chin that forced her to look up. "How many times have I told you that everything I have is yours?" He looked down at James, who was cradled in his free arm. "We need you, Hermione. Do you really think I give a damn about some galleons when my _wife_ was almost killed?"

"Extorted and nearly murdered by a man who is supposed to be deceased," Lucius said.

"Rabastan Lestrange is supposed to be dead," Neville spoke his first words in minutes. "How could a dead man have gotten to you?"

"Unless he is not as deceased as we were previously lead to believe." At Severus' words, Hermione looked up to see the other men in the room watching the long look Harry, Kingsley and Arthur exchanged.

"What have you not told us?" The tinge of fear in Neville's voice was unmistakable.

Harry worried a hand through his messy hair. "There may have… there may have been someone who managed to evade capture."

Hermione's heart hammered. "Lestrange Manor burned. The men inside— their bodies were—"

"Burned beyond recognition, or so we were told." Severus' voice held a dark edge. " _Speak,_ Potter."

Harry looked at Kingsley and Arthur once more before he began. "If someone dies while polyjuiced, they can stay in that form. So if he were to have polyjuiced another and let their body burn in the fire...we couldn't be certain that he was truly deceased. We've been tracking a Death Eater for nearly a year now," Harry said. "Traces of him have turned up in different countries, but he's been very good at evading capture. Now that I know this, I'm almost certain that it's him."

Hermione stiffened. "Harry—" She stopped short as she met the solemn look in his eyes that confirmed the words she'd been about to speak. "No," her voice broke. "When you went to Australia—"

"We found a trace of him in London last week," Kingsley said. "But we weren't certain…"

His voice faded into the background as Hermione's breaths started to come out in short gasps as her vision started blurring. He'd been exhausted for weeks now. She'd noticed the tiredness, how often he'd come home late and fallen asleep in the nursery with James cradled in his arms.

Hermione started at the feeling of a tickle on her thigh. She looked down to see Emma looking up at her. "Mumma?"

At the sound of her daughter's voice, fresh tears started to pour down Hermione's face. "Hi Emma," she said. When the toddler stretched out her arms, Hermione gathered Emma into her arms and inhaled her fresh scent. She peeked at her other children through Emma's dark curls, her vision blurred by tears. She looked at her husbands, feeling the fear that had clenched her heart for the past week only squeeze tighter.

"When you brought my parents back," Hermione started, still clutching her daughter tightly, "was me needing them the only reason?"

The room fell silent as Harry's eyes met hers. She saw the turmoil in them, the way his lip twitched before he pressed his mouth closed and then opened it again. "No," he said after a long moment.

Hermione's breath came out in a shudder.

"I couldn't tell you," Harry said. "No one knew your parents were there, but when our mission brought us straight to them…I couldn't ignore the danger, either."

"After Harry brought them back and told me what he'd suspected, we kept the information strictly confidential and for the ears of those who needed to know that you were potentially being targeted. His trail went cold after your parents were retrieved, and he did not resurface until recently."

Hermione slowly raised her eyes to Arthur. "Did you know, too?" Her voice was small.

Arthur nodded sadly. "I did."

Hermione fell silent, her husbands' words floating around her in a haze.

"Potter," Draco's voice was strained, "how long have you known he was out there? Why didn't you say anything?"

"We couldn't," Harry said. "It was classified because it's an ongoing investigation—"

Draco's eyes sharpened. "You've said yourselves that your duties to this family supersede your duties to the Ministry."

Harry bowed his head and turned to Hermione. "We couldn't distress you unnecessarily. We hoped to find him sooner. We didn't think— we didn't know he could have gotten in here. We didn't think he could get to you at all."

"There were illegal portkeys made during the war," Lucius' voice was low. "There were more made that I could account for, but I had made it my personal endeavour to destroy every place I even suspected there to be one."

"Tired," Emma's voice brought Hermione out of her stupor. Emma mumbled a few more unintelligible words, nuzzling into her mother's bosom.

"I know, baby," Hermione said, smoothing a hand over her daughter's back. "You can go back to sleep now."

When she looked up from her dozing daughter, all of her husbands were watching them. "I would die for my children," she said, her lip trembling. "I would die for— any of you. For my family. Don't ask me to take that back."

"And what would we do without you?" Arthur asked. "How could we live without you?"

Neville stormed out of the room.

She stood and looked after him before turning back to her other husbands, conflicted.

"Go," Kingsley nodded at the door.

She gave her other husbands another conflicted look before she hurried after Neville, mindful of jostling Emma too hard.

"Neville!" she called as he ascended the steps. "Neville, wait— please."

She caught him in the hall outside of his rooms. He clutched the doorknob hard. His back was tensed, and she wanted to reach out to him.

Emma beat her to it. "Nevi?" her daughter said sleepily, stretching toward her stepfather.

Neville relaxed minutely and turned. He was stiff until he had Emma in his arms, and he cradled her with a familiar gentleness. The sight made Hermione's heart pang.

"Neville, I—"

"You're sorry?" His voice was colder than she ever remembered hearing it, undercut with a pain she couldn't remember ever having heard, either. "Do you realize what your actions could have done to me? To us?" he added pointedly as he looked down at Emma.

Hermione stood up straighter. "Don't ask me to apologize. I would _die—"_

"And _I_ would die for _you!_ " Emma started at his raised voice and he lowered it with his next words. "I would die for her, too," he added. "So how— how can that justify you almost sacrificing yourself?"

Hermione tensed. "There was so much— so much that I don't know, and I couldn't risk it, not knowing if you would be safe or not."

"You're everything to me, Hermione," he said. "Don't you know that? I would protect you with my life."

The image of him raising the Sword of Gryffindor over Nagini flashed into her mind, the fierce, determined look on his face speaking only a fraction of his strength and conviction. "You're one of the bravest men I know," Hermione said. She stepped closer and paused when he stepped back, trying to ignore the way the small movement made her heartbreak.

"You could be carrying my child," his voice broke over the words.

Hermione couldn't stifle her sob. "I know, and I'm sorry, so sorry, you know that I would never purposely endanger our child—"

Neville cut her off. "When I told you about how excited I was for us to have a child, were you using it then?"

Her answering silence spoke volumes.

Neville rocked Emma gently as she started to fuss in his tightening arms. "Did you— did you mean it when you said you loved me or did you say that just to distract—"

"I meant it," Hermione sobbed. "I meant it, I meant it with everything I have, I _swear_ it."

Neville turned away from her. "I understand why you did it. I would have done it too. But it doesn't change the fact that you doing it still broke my heart."

Hermione moved closer to him, letting out a thankful breath when he let her wrap her arms around him and Emma. "I love you," she whispered into his skin. "I love you so much, and I'm so so sorry."

His stiffness eased a fraction she held him tighter, and she continued whispering her affection into his skin.

* * *

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	49. Chapter 49

**So much love goes out to my beta, RESimon.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FORTY-NINE**

"Hi."

Hermione looked up to see Draco hovering in the open doorway of her bathroom.

"Hi," Hermione said, turning back to look down at her bathwater that had long since gone cold. She sat in the tub still clothed in her brassiere and trousers, half-submerged in the water that was murky with the dirt and blood from her clothing. She knew that she could have vanished what was left of the mess that her husbands hadn't, but she couldn't find the strength.

She felt him move closer and settle himself just beside the tub. A long silence passed between them. Hermione did not move. Her eyes stayed focused on no particular point before her, her focus trained on the loop of the night events that continued to play in her mind's eye instead of what was before her.

It was Draco who eventually broke the silence. "I'm sorry," he said. There was a soft splash, and a moment later she felt him gently rubbing a flannel over her arm.

Hermione swallowed, her throat still dry. "You did nothing. But I…" she trailed off.

Draco was quiet for another moment, the only sound in the room the soft squelching of the wet flannel as he cleaned her thoroughly. "The whole time we were in the sitting room, all I could think of was if it had been me."

Hermione pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head upon them. "What would you have done if it had been you?" Her voice was small.

"I don't know."

They lapsed back into silence as he moved on to her hair. It had been a while — just over a week, precisely — since Hermione has last let Pinky tame it, and her curls had returned. Draco was calm and careful as he combed through them, his already feather-light touch somehow managing to get gentler whenever he began taming a knot.

"None of it matters anymore." She didn't provide an explanation for her whispered words. Draco did not pause, and she knew that he understood what it meant.

It was not until a long while later — after he'd combed through her entire head and spelled it into a long braid as she so often did at night — that he spoke again. "Granger." She turned to him at his tone. When her eyes met his, he started speaking again. "I'm not sorry for what I said when we fought." He paused, likely waiting for her protest.

She said nothing, and he searched her eyes for a moment before continuing. "But I am sorry for how I said it. He— there are things, so many things between he and I that can't be solved with words. And there are wounds that I don't think time will ever heal, either. I can promise you that I'll coexist with him for you. But I won't promise you things that I know I can't offer."

She was still so numb that she wasn't certain if she'd managed a nod, but something in her expression gave him the courage to press forward.

"I don't think—" he paused, looking down at where she was still submerged in the now-clean water, "I can't go through this again. The thought of losing you— the pain of the first time, and now this...I can't do that again, Granger. I can't."

He paused, likely waiting for her to push back, press the issue, anything—

"I love you," she said instead.

Draco leaned forward and lifted her out of the water. He cradled her gently, holding her wet body close as he whispered words of affection and adoration into her ear, every utterance laced with an apology. He stopped only when there was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

"Sorry to interrupt," Harry said.

"It's fine, Potter," Draco said, settling Hermione down gently on the plush rug below them. He dried her with a quick wave of his hand. "What's wrong?"

Hermione hadn't even registered the conflicted look on Harry's face until Draco mentioned it. Now she caught the way his eyes were cast downward and he shifted his weight from foot to foot. "We got your parents. They're safe but…"

Draco cursed under his breath. "What did you tell them?"

"For now I've told them that authorities may have caught on to me bringing them back illegally. They seem to have believed me, but I can't be certain—"

"I'll go to them—" Hermione started.

Draco shook his head. "You can't. Not in this state."

"Hermione?" Neville stood in the doorway. He scanned her, looking relieved when his eyes made it back to her face.

"You alright, Longbottom?" Draco asked.

Neville gave him a short nod. "I'm most concerned about Hermione right now. Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded.

"Your parents…" Neville started before Harry nodded at him. "They've arrived then?"

"I brought them a few minutes ago. They're in the drawing-room now."

Kingsley's figure darkened the doorway behind Neville. He gave Hermione a soft smile before nodding at the others."Harry," he cocked his head out the door. "It's time. The other Aurors have arrived. The sooner we leave, the better chances we have of capturing him while he's still injured."

Hermione had felt frozen until that moment when she sprang forward and latched onto their arms. She knew her eyes were wide with panic as she swung her head between them. She'd known that they would be leaving straightaway in pursuit of Lestrange, but her heart was in her throat at the idea of him departing. "Please— don't— I can't—"

"Hermione," Kingsley said softly, smoothing a thumb over her cheek. "We will be safe. We have Aurors posted here, as well as an entire team traveling with us."

Harry gently pried her hand off of his and lifted her fingers to his lips to kiss them. "We will find him, and we will be home before you know it. I swear it."

Hermione leaned up and gave Kingsley a slow and desperate kiss, uncaring of the eyes of her other husbands upon them. "Be safe," she said when she pulled back.

"Always," Kingsley said back, giving her another quick peck.

Harry squeezed her hand. "I love you," he reminded her.

"I love you too." Her voice rasped over the words as her mind assaulted her with images of everything that could go wrong. "The wand, and there's some of his hair in my pocket—"

"We found it all," Kingsley assured her. "You are as clever as ever. We will catch him."

With a final nod, they were gone.

Hermione bit her lip to stop her tears from bursting forth. Her hands trembled hard, and she shoved them under her arms. She'd made so many mistakes, and all of them had lead to what she feared most happening anyway—

Arms wrapped around her from behind. "Shhh," Neville's voice was a beacon of calm amongst her tumultuous emotions. "I'm here."

" _We're_ here," Draco said as he moved before her. He took her hand while Neville continued to hold her.

They stayed like that until Hermione broke the silence. "My parents," she said. "I should go to them."

Draco and Neville escorted her downstairs. They entered the drawing-room to a scene that made Hermione pause as she momentarily forgot her worries. Her parents sat on one loveseat, their eyes darting between when Carina, James, and Scorpius played on the floor and where Lucius, Arthur, and Sirius sat across from them. Emma was curled in Lucius' lap, fast asleep. Hermione's mother wore a tight smile, while her father glared openly at her husbands.

All looked intensely relieved when they spotted Hermione.

"Mum, Dad," Hermione greeted her parents. "Are you alright?"

Hermione's father blinked. "Are _you_ alright?"

Hermione nodded. She'd dressed in a dressing gown and robe, and had had Pinky apply a light layer of makeup to cover her splotchy face as well as the lingering marks on her neck. Her mother frowned slightly as Hermione drew close enough to embrace her, but said nothing.

"I'm fine, I just…" she trailed off, looking at their worried expressions. There was a well-rehearsed lie lingering at the tip of her tongue. The longer she looked at them, however, the further the lie receded. She had told too many of late. She was tired.

"I…" Her throat felt dry. "Someone... someone threatened my safety," she said, her voice small.

Her parents flew to their feet.

'What?"

"When? Have you notified the authorities—"

"All has been taken care of," Arthur stepped in. He curled an arm around Hermione's waist. She leaned into his side, grateful that he had sensed how she was teetering on her feet. "We just need you to remain with us for a few days as a precaution."

"Oh, Hermione," her mother said, stepping closer to wrap Hermione in her arms. "My _child_ —"

Hermione's father wrapped his arms around both of them as soon as Arthur stepped back.

For what felt like the thousandth time that night, Hermione let herself cry.

 **X**

Hermione returned to her rooms to find Severus perched upon a chair in her sitting room. His expression was dark and haunted, his eyes swimming with an unreadable emotion.

"Severus," she said. "I— I can't do this right now. I'm sorry. But I'm exhausted—"

She cut off as she was suddenly enveloped in his arms. He held her in a crushing grip. Her face was buried in his swaths of dark robes. "Severus?" she said into his clothing.

"I almost lost you." His words were so low that she wouldn't have heard him if his face wasn't buried in her neck.

"Severus," she whispered, sliding her arms around him.

"I— I can't lose you," he said. "Not like this."

"You didn't," she said. She'd thought her tears had finally dried for the evening, but she felt her eyes watering as she felt the distress pouring off of her normally stoic husband.

"I love you," she choked out the words in a sob so low that she thought them swallowed in his clothing.

But when he pulled back instantly, she knew her words had been heard. No words passed between them for an immeasurable stretch of silence as they met each others' eyes.

"I love you." His words were rasped, his mouth moving slowly around them as though he was speaking a new language.

The second his words were spoken, their spell was broken. Their mouths met in a desperate, hungry kiss. She wrapped herself around him, seeking the comfort she hadn't realized she desperately needed after her tumultuous night.

 **X**

Two days passed without a sighting of Harry or Kingsley. Save for a few short letters and the reassurances of the Aurors that had been posted at their home had given her, Hermione knew little of where they were. She'd pleaded with her other husbands to remain home, and she'd spent her time flitting between them, her children, and her parents as she tried to deal with the steady stream of Aurors filtered through their home. Some paid her little mind, while others asked her questions until her head ached and one of her husbands would dismiss them.

On the third day, Hermione received a letter.

It was from Molly Weasley.

A few hours later, Hermione found herself stepping through a foreign floo into an equally foreign foyer. It was as opulently decorated as she'd expected. She was observing the pixies that schemed in the sprawling mural on the ceiling when she heard a throat clear across the room.

Molly stood in the doorway, holding open two gilded doors that lead to a sitting room beyond. "Hello, Hermione," the older woman said, giving her a soft smile.

"M…" she hesitated as she followed the other woman into the sitting room.

"Molly is still fine," she said, gesturing for Hermione to sit in the ornate chair next to hers. "If anything, I should be calling you Mrs. Weasley now, shouldn't I?" Her joke fell flat in the awkward silence that had descended.

"Tea?" Molly asked, spelling a steaming cup over to Hermione.

Hermione stared down into her cup. "I... I'm—"

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Molly interrupted her. "I'm sorry for...a lot of things."

Hermione looked up to see her staring pensively out of one of the sprawling windows that depicted the estate's perfectly manicured grounds.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Hermione said.

A small smile that did not reach her eyes graced Molly's lips for a brief moment. "As gracious as ever," the other woman said as she turned to meet Hermione's eyes. "But we both know that is untrue."

Hermione clutched her tea harder. Somehow, Molly knew about the night she'd eavesdropped. It felt so inconsequential in the face of all that Hermione was currently dealing with, and she twitched forward, trying to think of an excuse that she could use to return home to her family—

"Arthur told me that you overheard us talking that night," Molly said quickly, as if sensing what Hermione had been about to do.

Hermione's shoulders slumped. It wouldn't do to fabricate an excuse anymore at this moment.

"If you grip that mug any harder you're like to shatter it," Molly quipped.

The quip felt so like the way Molly had treated her in the times Hermione had been a guest at her home — in another life, really — that she almost laughed. The times when Molly had treated her like an honorary member of her family felt long past now that Hermione was actually one. Hermione loosened her grip on her mug, now feeling the way her fingers throbbed from the way she'd been gripping it.

"I never meant to hurt you," Molly continued, her voice taking on a somber tone. "I didn't think of much that night beside my own pain, really. Living without Arthur...I would have never believed I could manage it even three years ago. But I'm here, and so is he. And we're both happy, in our own ways. I apologize that it took me so long to realize that."

Hermione nodded softly, her eyes still trained on her rapidly cooling tea.

"When he told me what you'd overheard and put some distance between us for the sake of your marriage, it surprised me how angry I _wasn't._ It took that push for me to realize how happy I am just as I am now. It is certainly different, but not unwelcome. I am so sorry for leaving you with the impression that things were otherwise."

Silence had descended for a few moments before Hermione realized Molly had finished. Her mind had been so far away that the woman's words had barely registered to her. "It's alright," she said. Even her own voice sounded foreign to her. "Really."

"Hermione. Look at me." Molly's voice was so gentle yet so commanding that Hermione found herself turning to the other woman without hesitation. She had leaned so close that Hermione started at the woman's closeness. She grasped Hermione's chin gently, looking deeply into Hermione's eyes. "You _aren't_ alright," she stated simply.

"How did you know?" Hermione asked, looking away from the other woman's searching eyes.

At that, Molly released Hermione's chin and settled back into her own seat. Her eyes adopted a look that Hermione suspected was as far away as her own had appeared moments ago.

"Because you look the way I did when I lost Bill," Molly answered softly.

This time, Hermione's full attention was on the other woman. Her throat felt dry as she searched for words that could not come. She hadn't dared broach the subject of Bill's death in her presence, knowing all too well the look of utter emptiness that would grace her features when anyone did.

"I'm scared," Hermione choked when she finally spoke. "How did you manage? I fear for my children every day, and I don't know how to even cope with the thought of it—" She cut off as Molly gathered her into her arms.

"Just let it go," Molly said.

Hermione didn't know when the other woman had stood, or when she'd managed to pull Hermione up either. All Hermione knew was that Molly knew, she'd felt this too, and her heart stuttered at the thought of the depths of sorrow Molly had experienced.

"I don't have anything else in me," Hermione said. Her eyes were dry despite the churning in her chest.

"Is everyone safe?" Molly asked.

"For now," Hermione's voice was a whisper.

"Then that's enough. Hold on to it. Hold on to something — anything, and don't let it go. That's how I made it."

Hermione nodded into Molly's robes, holding the woman closer and her words even closer.

 **X**

On the fourth day, Hermione got another letter. This time, it was from Gringotts.

 _Your urgent presence is required for the approval of moving your vault. Please see us at your earliest convenience — with due haste,_ it read.

Perplexed, Hermione — escorted by Neville and flanked by no less than three guards, at the insistence of her husband — made her way to the bank for the third time that week. This time, the cold goblin who had helped her on her past two visits greeted her with a thinly veiled scowl on his features, appearing doubly as irritated as usual by her presence. It was only when Neville gave him an equally scathing look that the goblin put on a false smile, escorting them to a cart.

"This is quite the...unusual matter," the goblin explained as the cart flew over the tracks. "We have already had to move some of the contents of your vault to a temporary one as we awaited your approval to move your assets to a new vault."

Hermione blinked at him. "I don't quite understand. My vault had only a few sickles and knuts in it when I last left it. Surely you could have left them there or moved them to a smaller vault without issue…" Hermione's words died on her lips as they pulled to a halt before her vault. The door to the vault was already propped open, and it was immediately apparent why.

"Oh," she said quietly.

Piles of galleons spilled out of the vault's open door. Several goblins were gathered around the area, looking thoroughly put out as they continuously spelled the galleons into piles as more spilled out and onto the ground. The sight of the massive, glittering piles of gold before her was almost blinding.

"As you can see," the goblin continued behind her, "your immediate approval was urgent. We do not usually need to move vaults with such urgency, but this situation was quite dire. In the future, if you could kindly consult with your family members before making such large transfers…"

The rest of the goblin's words were lost on her as she collapsed in a heap on the ground, scattering a neatly stacked pile of galleons before her. A goblin let out an annoyed tut behind her, but she paid him no mind. She touched the gleaming pile of gold, her eyes wide as she looked at the sheer amount of it all.

"Did you do this?" she asked, turning to Neville.

Neville kneeled beside her and gave her a slow kiss. "Anything that is mine is yours, Hermione. I know you've never wanted anything of mine, but I had to do this for you," he said when he pulled back. "And judging by the seven other names on that goblin's leger over there, it looks like everyone else had the same idea."

"Thank you," she said, still fingering the pile she'd knocked over as one of the goblins set to righting it.

He pulled her close. "Let us in. I know you never wanted money, and you've never wanted — or needed — our protection either, but you have it nonetheless. So please — let us in."

"I've made so many mistakes," she said. "I'm so sorry—"

Neville silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Don't," he said. "Just— don't do anything like that again. _Please._ "

"I won't," she said, giving him a long kiss. "I swear it."

* * *

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	50. Chapter 50

**Please go show some love to my beta, RESimon. She's an incredible beta, but is an even more brilliant author. Her first fic, a Nevmione titled Not But For You, is in my favorites. Please do drop some love on her tumblr, too - resimonfics.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIFTY**

"'Rina, no!" Emma snatched her sister by the back of her miniature robes and hauled her to the ground.

" _Emma Rose Sna—_ " Hermione cut off as she felt her mother's hand close over her arm.

"Look." Her mother nodded toward where Padfoot and Crookshanks had separated the children. Carina chewed happily on Emma's mitten while Padfoot licked Emma until she giggled. "They're in good hands. Sit."

Hermione sank back onto the stone bench beside her mother, still itching to go to her children.

"Look," her mother said again.

This time, Hermione saw her mother nodding at where Scorpius was cradled in Hermione's arms. He was staring up at her with his wide silver-grey eyes, and his tiny lips were curved into a small smile.

"Hi baby," Hermione said, leaning down to give him a gentle kiss on his forehead. When she pulled back, his smile had widened.

"It's your voice," her mother said. James slept peacefully in his grandmother's arms, his face barely visible over the bundle of blankets Hermione's mother had insisted on wrapping him in.

"Oh," Hermione said, and just the sound made Scorpius' smile widen even further. Her mouth dropped open slightly at the sight of reverence in her son's eyes. "I love you," Hermione said, smoothing a finger through his downy blond hair.

"It's the little moments like these that make motherhood so incredible, aren't they?" her mother said.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, smiling as she watched Scorpius' reaction to her voice.

"You're smiling," her mother said, "but it's not meeting your eyes."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment as her smile faltered. "I…" Hermione trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Tell me how you're feeling," her mother asked.

It took a beat for Hermione to be able to speak over the lump in her throat. "Scared."

"I love you so much Hermione," her mother said. "And it breaks my heart to see yours broken."

"Mum," her lip trembled, "Mum, I… I don't know where I went so wrong. He touched Carina— he touched her, and from that moment I lost all my sense, and I—" She cut off as she felt her mother lift Scorpius from her arms. She hadn't even noticed when her mother had placed James into one side of the bassinet that hovered beside them.

Once Scorpius was settled beside James, her mother turned and enveloped Hermione in her arms. Hermione allowed herself to soak in the warmth and comfort of her mother's familiar touch as she tried to keep her tears at bay.

"You've placed an impossible burden upon yourself," her mother said. "Not in trying to resolve this threat on your own, but in trying to carry the burden of the guilt you feel for taking a course of action any mother might have."

Hermione said nothing and only held her mother tighter.

"You have eight husbands, four children, and have been pregnant through at least part of this ordeal. Aside from your hormones having not had the opportunity to right themselves for a year, how differently do you think any other mother — any other wife, even — would have reacted?"

"I don't...I don't know. I don't any anything anymore." Hermione's every action felt tinged with defeat.

Her mother caught her by the chin. "I would have done everything in my power to find him. I would have done anything I could to do so while ensuring that every member of my family was safe."

Hermione looked away. "I still failed."

Her mother ran a hand through Hermione's wild curls. "Your resilience and determination to find your way out of situations on your own speak to your strength and independence, not to your weaknesses. How many times have you gone off without a word to the adults around you but managed to save yourself, Harry, Ron, and sometimes others in the process?"

Hermione paused. "How did you know—?"

"Your husbands restored a few _gifts_ along with the rest of our memories. It appears that your former headmaster had a fondness for skirting the law by telling us how many times you almost got yourself killed in school before immediately obliviating us."

Hermione grimaced at the shudder in her mother's voice. "Mum, I..."

Hermione trailed off as caught Padfoot bound over to the doors that lead back into the Manor, where Neville stood. Hermione straightened. The look on Neville's face was grim.

Something had happened.

She barely mumbled an excuse to her mother before she was stumbling, then running to the gleaming glass doors. She tore through them to find Sirius and Neville watching Arthur intently as he spoke to them in a low, hushed tone. Before she could call out to them, Arthur turned on his heel and disapparated.

She must have made a sound because Neville and Sirius turned their grim stares on her.

"What's going on?" Her throat felt so tight that she'd had to force the words out. "I can't— I can't— just tell me, are they— Harry and Kingsley—"

Sirius was upon her in a moment. "Love," he said, catching her as she stumbled toward him. "They're fine. I swear it."

His words soothed like a calming draught over the calamity in her mind. Still, the grim look on his face did not soften.

She clutched his sleeve. "You're certain?"

"We're certain," Neville said, leading her into the nearest sitting room.

"Then why do you look like this?" Hermione reached up to smooth out the line of tension that had settled between his brows.

"Sit, please." Sirius' hand was soft but firm as he guided her to the nearest sofa.

Hermione watched as her husbands exchanged a long look.

"Just tell me," she said. "Don't talk around it, just tell me. I can't bear any more of" — she waved an anxious hand — "this. It's been too long." she bit her lip as she felt it begin to tremble. One of her hands had drifted to the nearly imperceptible bump at the base of her abdomen as she's been speaking. She pressed her hand harder against it now, reminding herself of why she needed to be calm. Who she needed to be strong for, in addition to the men in front of her.

"Calm down love," Sirius said. "They're fine. This is...something else." He looked up at Neville again, communicating silently with the other man.

Neville stepped forward and then back again before running a hand through his hair. "Rabastan Lestrange is dead."

Neville's words passed through her like a knife, swiftly and smoothly, and it was a moment before the shock of them followed.

"Dead?" Hermione had to concentrate on moving her lips to form the word as her actions tried to keep up with the pace of her thoughts. "Dead."

Her next blink was long and slow. "How?"

Neville and Sirius exchanged another look. "Love—"

"How?" She stood then, looking between them.

"He…" Neville paused. "He bled out."

"Bled...out."

Sirius reached out toward her. "Hermione—"

She shrugged him off. "How?"

"What aren't you telling me?" She looked between them again, seeing the same guarded look reflected in both of her husbands' eyes.

"He was wounded...on his…" Neville swallowed and met her eyes.

"Thigh," Hermione breathed. The implication of the word slammed through her so suddenly that she found herself falling back to the sofa.

Her husbands caught her and held her on each side. She sagged into Neville as they settled her onto the sofa.

She'd killed him. She'd wounded him, he'd died from it. She'd taken his wand, and—

"Talk to us," Neville said, curling an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm supposed to be sad, aren't I?" She stretched out a hand before her, turning it this way and that as she slowly flexed her fingers. Her body felt foreign, detached from her conscious. "But I just...I feel nothing."

She felt Neville's thumb brushing gentle strokes across the nape of her neck. "Hermione…"

"I suppose there's something wrong with me," she mused, still watching the way her hand movements followed her thoughts on a distinct delay, as if she was underwater.

Sirius sank to his knees before her and seized her gently by the shoulders. "There is nothing wrong it you, love. I swear it."

She caught Neville's sharp nod out of the corner of her eye. "Hermione…"

"I'm supposed to feel—" she looked down at her hands, wondering at how they seemed more foreign with each second that passed, " —something. Something else. Something other than…" she let her lips fall shut, forcing herself not to say the word.

"Relief?" Neville said, his own voice echoing with the hollowness she heard in her own. She looked at him to see him looking out the window with a faraway look in his eye.

"Neville…?"

"Rookwood. During the Battle of Hogwarts. A diffindo— right here." He ran a finger across his lower abdomen. "I want to say I missed, but I didn't. I want to say I regret it— but I don't. He almost had Luna, and I didn't hesitate. Even now…even now all I feel is relief. Relief that he isn't out there, and can't escape again. Relief that he couldn't have been one of the ones that had hidden away one of the portkeys. Relieved that he couldn't have gotten to you, either."

He turned to her then and took her hand. "Hermione, you…" He looked down at where his thumb caressed her hand. "You are… incredible. The bravest witch I know. You're my wife, but above that, you are a mother. Your instinct to protect your children— I know it goes beyond what I felt that day on the battlefield."

"I don't regret it," she said. "He— I wanted him dead. I wanted to cut him down myself. For touching my child… for threatening my husbands, my family— I wanted to do it, and I didn't, and I— I— _I'm so glad that he's gone._ "

"And no one will ever fault you for that, love." Sirius pulled her into his side and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. "Ever."

There was a knock at the doorway then, and when Hermione saw Harry and Kingsley standing there, she didn't hesitate to run into their arms.

"You're here," she mumbled into Kingsley's robe, inhaling his scent. "You're alright."

"We're fine, 'Mione," Harry said. "We're perfectly fine."

"I apologize that we were away for so long," Kinglsey said. "He proved somewhat elusive, despite your giving us a valuable asset to track him with."

Hermione pulled back, furrowing her brow. "Elusive…? Isn't he..."

Harry's eyes flicked behind her before landing back on her own. "They've told you, then?"

Hermione nodded.

Kingsley cupped her cheek in his large palm. "It's not your fault," he said. "What he did to you was much, much worse."

Hermione nodded again, taking comfort in the feeling of his warm skin on hers before his lips met hers for a moment.

When Kingsley pulled back, Hermione saw Harry looking away, a conflicted look on his face.

She caught his chin and turned him to her. "What aren't you telling me?" she asked.

"'Mione…" Harry said, worrying a hand through his messy black hair. "He...he wasn't alone."

Hermione froze.

"He was with his brother, Rodolphus," Kingsley said.

"Rodolphus?" Hermione's hand ghosted over her arm as she thought of the man's wife perched over her, carving _that_ word into her arm…

"We have him. We were thorough. It was only them," Harry said.

"I believe they've been in hiding for most of this time," Kingsley said. "It's likely that they snuck in when we re-opened the borders to encourage tourism. Where they were living...it was...less than ideal."

Harry nodded. "We think that the money may have been for that. As well as...well…" he hesitated. "Rodolphus...he was injured. Badly. We think it happened in the fire at Lestrange Manor. We can't be certain, but…"

"We think some of the money was used for the healing supplies we found with him. He… he wouldn't have been able to hurt you, even if he had gotten to you. We have him in custody now, and that is what matters," Kingsley said. "We will interrogate him, and then he will go to Azkaban."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but found that she had nothing to say. Harry watched the way her mouth opened and closed several times before he gathered her into his arms.

"You're safe," he whispered into her ear. "You're safe and that's all that matters."

 **X**

Elizabeth Alice Longbottom was born on a Saturday.

Bright rays of sunlight streamed into Hermione's birthing suite, warming her skin and illuminating the cooing newborn in her arms. Her husbands were all gathered around her in a loose circle, watching mother and daughter as they bonded.

"I feel like I should be feeding her," Hermione said, frowning. "Or something? But she's been so calm for hours now."

"She's enjoying life, as she should be," Neville smiled down at his daughter.

"She's beautiful," Harry said. He was still in his Auror robes, and Hermione didn't miss the way his smile hadn't quite reached his eyes.

Kingsley and Arthur were also in their Ministry-issued robes, their tired looks barely masked by the smiles they put on. The look hadn't left any of their eyes for two and a half months.

"How are things?" she asked them, looking knowingly between her three husbands.

"The interrogation is ongoing," Kingsley said. "But you needn't worry about that. Right now is about her."

Arthur nodded. "He's been difficult, but nothing we can't manage. Things are going well, Hermione. We wouldn't be here if they weren't."

Hermione smiled and nodded at them, relief warming her heart.

Elizabeth squirmed then, and Hermione leaned down to kiss her tiny forehead. "I love you," she whispered into her baby's ear, smiling as the infant turned toward the sound of her mother's voice.

"We'll give you three some time," Sirius said. Her husbands filed out, and she heard the sounds of her parents playing with their grandchildren drift in from the suite's sitting room for a moment before they were sealed in silence.

"Lestrange…" Neville's voice was brimming with emotion, he cleared his throat before he began again, "Lestrange almost took two people I love dearly from me _again_. You...you and our baby."

Hermione felt a tear leak down her cheek. "We're here though. We're here, and we're alright."

Neville wrapped his arms around her, maneuvering gently around their daughter. "I won't let anything happen to you. I'll protect you both with my life— for the rest of my life."

Hermione kissed him, pouring everything she felt for him into the action.

"I love you," he said when she pulled back.

Hermione smiled. "I love you, too."

He stroked her cheek. "What are you thinking about?"

"I feel… peaceful. It's been so long since I've felt like this, but I truly do."

Neville kissed her temple, then reached for his daughter. She handed off the baby carefully and then just watched her husband and their daughter stare at one another, in awe of their bond, until she fell asleep.

* * *

 **Wow. I've hit 1k reviews on here, and 3k kudos on ao3. I have no words. We're 2 days out from the one year anniversary of this fic, and when I posted it I had no idea how much it would grow. I am eternally grateful and in awe of the outpouring of love and support I've received from you all. I write for myself, but it's an immeasurable honor to put my stuff out there and know that this many people are enjoying it. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I love you all.**

 **Thank you all for following - I can't tell you enough how much every review means to me. And for those who have been asking about the drop in smut during this bit of the story - not to worry. 51 will make up for it.**

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	51. Chapter 51

**I have so, so much love for my beta, RESimon. Please go check out her Nevmione, Not But For You - it's linked in my favorites.**

 **I'd also like to give a huge shoutout to SenLinYu for being so kind and patient enough to answer my parenting questions. This shoutout is a bit belated because I've used her advice for a few chapters now, but she's been _such_ a gem. She was even kind enough to pull up videos of her children (!) when they were Emma's age to help me out - I can't thank her enough. She's amazing. **

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE**

"Emma!" Hermione attempted to hold down Scorpius while reaching a hand out to stop Emma from gnawing on Carina's arm. " _Stop_ that—"

Emma growled at her sister and made to swat at her when Carina scurried away, holding the charmed ladybug they'd been chasing after tightly in her tiny fist.

James chose that moment to roll over into Scorpius, leaving his half-done up nappy on the ground in the spot where he had previously lain. Both infants burst into giggles as Hermione tried to secure them down by their chests.

"Hermione, sweetheart—"

"I'm their mother, mum," Hermione shifted to wave a dismissive hand at her before deciding against it and continuing to secure James down instead, "I can do this."

Hermione's mother laughed lightly. "You also have five children under the age of two."

"Yes—" Hermione said, spelling the final tie into place on Scorpius' nappy before starting on James, "— but I don't spend enough time with each of them as it is, and I should be able to watch all five on my own."

Her mother laughed again as she descended to her knees beside Hermione. "I only had one child and I would have loved any and all the extra help I could have gotten," she said, lifting Scorpius into her arms. "I never refused it."

Hermione sighed as James crawled off toward his sisters. "I know. I just feel guilty that they're spending so much time with others."

"Meaning their fathers and caregivers?" Her mother raised an eyebrow at her.

Hermione gave her a small smile. "You know what I meant."

Her mother smoothed a hand through Hermione's hair. "I do," she said, glancing down at Scorpius. "But you, too, should understand that mothers feel nothing but guilt for so many things."

"I know, mum, but I—Elizabeth's awake," she said, peeking over into the newborn's bassinet.

"Hermione," her mother swatted Hermione away from where she'd been about to gather Elizabeth into her arms. "She's fine where she is. And do not try to argue with me — you're spreading yourself too thin out of guilt that you're not doing enough for your children. And—" her mother snatched Scorpius' sock out of James' hands before he could resume chewing on it, "you seem to have forgotten that you're a wife, too."

Hermione groaned. "I haven't, mum, but—"

She was silenced by her mother's finger on her lips. "Shush. If I recall correctly, Arthur mentioned something about dinner this evening on his way out?"

"He'll understand."

Her mother frowned. "'He'll understand' once multiplies tenfold before you know it. Suddenly, a decade will have flown by and your children will all be off to Hogwarts. Then you'll regret the time you missed with your husbands over the years."

Hermione looked to her children again, then back to her mother.

Her mother's voice softened. "Don't be afraid to leave them anymore. He's dead. The other is in prison. You're safe now. Your children are safe now."

Hermione nodded and pulled her mother into a hug. When she pulled back, her mother cupped her cheeks gently and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You and my grandchildren are _everything_ to me. However many there may be," she added jokingly.

Hermione laughed lightly, then sighed.

Her mother frowned. "You should be proud of what you've accomplished, Hermione. Getting that proposal through and having so many parts of it approved — it's a testament to your brilliance."

"Thanks, mum," Hermione bit her lip. "It's just— when I was writing it, I wasn't thinking of myself. Not really. I was thinking about all the other women who were a victim to a desperate measure that I helped to enact."

"Hermione— that all sounds formidable, in my opinion."

"For them, mum," she said. "But for me… I've had more than half the number of children expected of me, which means that I can choose to have the next any time I wish as long as it is within the next two years. Even then, I can apply for a reprieve and they may even grant it if they've determined that the population expansion won't suffer for it. At first, the Ministry was acting out of desperation and fear, forcing us to churn out as many children as we could to prove that this works. Now that they know that it does, they've been willing to be more lenient with a lot of things. But I have three husbands whom I haven't given children yet — two of whom don't have children of their own."

"Have you talked to them about it?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know how to broach the subject. I feel like they'll say whatever they think will make me happy because they were there throughout my pregnancies, but that means I may never know how they really feel about it. Would it be unfair to make them wait that long while my other husbands thrive with their children?"

"I know that's not what you're really thinking, Hermione. We both know that it wouldn't."

Hermione tried to look away, but her mother caught her chin gently before she could. "You're worried that you might change your mind if you do delay."

Hermione froze before she gave her mother a slow nod. "I don't want to feel this way, but...it was easier, almost, just having them back to back. Now, the longer I go without being pregnant, the more I dread it. But, at the same time— I do want to have their children. I truly do. I just— I'm so confused."

She was surprised to hear her mother let out a small laugh. "It's wonderful that you have nothing but time to think about it then, isn't it?"

At that, Hermione laughed. "I suppose I do."

 **X**

Hermione spelled the clasp of her heels securely closed before she stood and cursed at the immediate ache on the arch of her feet. She sank back down onto the chaise lounge and lifted her wand when she heard a throat clear at the open doorway. She looked up to see Arthur standing there with Scorpius perched on his hip, smiling down at her.

"Looks like mum needs some assistance, doesn't she?" he said to Scorpius as he set the infant down onto the marble floor. Scorpius immediately began crawling towards his mother, grinning widely as he moved toward her.

"Hello Scorpius," Hermione said. "You're so quick!"

"That he is," Arthur agreed as he crossed over to her. "Kingsley and I found him and James trying to make a snack out of poor Knobby's fingers just now."

Hermione groaned. "The children have been terrorizing the elves nonstop. Just yesterday Carina caught ahold of the yarn of poor Tibby's dress that she just knitted and quite nearly unraveled the whole thing."

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. "I'm sure they don't mind. A little excitement never hurts."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Knobby still leaves the room as soon as Emma enters it."

"You've birthed some wonderful mischief-makers, is all, I should know about that better than anyone," Arthur laughed as he gave her a gentle peck. He bent and charmed her stilettos for comfort before helping her to her feet. "Better?"

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Much," she said. She watched the way his fingers lingered on the bare skin of her calf as his eyes traveled up to where her dress stopped at mid-thigh. "See something you like?" she lowered her voice.

"Very much," Arthur breathed, letting his fingers skim higher up her skin in a way that left a tingle in its wake.

It was then that another, smaller hand caught hold of her other calf. She looked down to see Scorpius grinning up at her, his eyes wide and innocent.

Arthur straightened with a chuckle. "I'd almost forgotten why we stopped by in the first place," he said. "I wanted to see if you're still up to our date tonight, but seeing as though you're already dressed…" he trailed off with another meaningful look at the clingy crimson material of her dress that left little to the imagination.

Hermione flushed. "I'll go say goodnight to the girls and I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall in a bit."

Arthur took up her hand and squeezed it. "And I'll put Scorpius down for the night."

Hermione nodded and disapparated, reappearing in the hall just outside the door to Carina's nursery. She pushed open the door and walked in, looking around for her daughter when she froze.

Severus and Lucius stood in the middle of the nursery, holding each others' daughters. The men had paused what appeared to be mid-conversation, and both were watching her intently.

Or her dress, rather.

Their eyes were fixated below her neck, each man's dark gaze tracing the way the dark red fabric dipped low at her chest, exposing ample cleavage, before clinging tightly to her every curve and stopping abruptly at mid-thigh. She hadn't thought to don the long cloak she'd intended to wear for the evening before coming to say goodnight, and was now torn between if it had been a good or bad idea. The rush of heat between her legs told her it was the former.

"Good night," she said, her voice soft as she felt her husbands' gazes still lingering on her attire as she approached.

She averted her eyes to her daughters, trying to avoid the heat of her husbands' gazes. "Hello, Emma," she said, approaching where Lucius held her in his arms.

"Hi!" Emma smiled, giggling when her mother planted several kisses across her face.

"Mummy's going out for the evening, so you be good for your fathers, alright?" Hermione said as she gave Carina kisses on her cheeks. Carina merely continued sucking on her fingers while Emma buried her face into Lucius' robes.

Hermione stepped back, biting her lip as she looked between her husbands. Before her head could catch up with her actions and stop her from what she was doing, she found herself leaning up to give Severus a kiss. It ended nearly as quickly as it began, but she caught the surprise in his expression nonetheless. She turned and looked at Lucius then, and before she could lose her nerve did the same. Both kisses were over in mere moments, but the heat that suffused her body lingered.

"Goodnight," she rushed as she ducked her head and scurried to the door, ignoring the wetness that stirred in her core.

 **X**

Hermione paced in front of her sitting room doors, her hand continuously twitching toward the doorknob before landing back at her side. Each lap she made before the towering doors made a light breeze that rustled her dressing gown, reminding her of exactly how little she wore beneath.

Lucius' rooms were only a couple dozen steps across the main sitting room beyond the doors, yet they felt a world away. Although it was Lucius' night, the man had said nary a word to her about it. Not that he usually did. Instead, he would breeze into her rooms late into the night, unannounced, and do the deed without a moment wasted. He was no longer cool and detached but had instead become almost clinical about the process. His kisses were rare, save for the desperate heated ones that he reserved for when they were in the throes of passion. He didn't always appear, but he no longer rejected her, either.

The heat that his and Severus' gazes had stirred within her had yet to calm. Although she and Arthur had managed to take the time for a quick romp in his rooms before he'd been due to return to work, it had done little but inflame the need she'd felt for her two brooding husbands. Without taking the time to dive into indecision once more, she pulled open the door and strode into their main sitting room.

She made it about a half dozen steps before she found herself retreating back into her rooms at a near run. It was only when she was safely behind her firmly closed bedroom doors that she let out the breath she'd been holding. She felt ridiculous that she was too embarrassed to tell her husband what she wanted. How she needed it, in a way that she knew he was more than able to—

"Do tell me," a silky smooth voice spoke from the darkness, "what ails you, Mrs. Snape?"

Hermione had frozen when he'd spoken, and her heartbeat now resumed in a stuttered staccato. Severus' voice had at once startled and aroused her further, and she remained where she was in order to prevent him from hearing the sounds of her slickened thighs sliding together as she moved.

"Severus," she said. "What—?"

He was upon her in only a moment, making her realize how much she'd misjudged his proximity.

"Tell me," he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice, "what were you seeking out there, dressed like...this?" He caught the edge of her thin satin dressing gown between two fingers, inching it up as he inspected it.

She flushed and tugged the fabric out of his grip. She rubbed her thighs together involuntarily, then flushed deeper as she wondered if she'd imagined the slick noise she'd heard as she'd done it, or if he had heard it too.

She chanced a peek up at him and found a bemused smirk dancing on his lips. He leaned forward until the warmth of his breath tickled her cheek as he spoke his next words. "Are you in need of any assistance, wife?"

"Perhaps," she breathed into his ear. One of her hands fluttered to his chest, feeling the heat of him through the hard muscle she found there.

One of his hands snaked around to her back, and he pressed her against him momentarily before she felt them being sucked away—

They landed in his lab.

She looked around dazedly for a moment, feeling exposed in the brightly lit room. The room was as chilly as always, and her nipples immediately perked up.

Severus' dark gaze was now in full view as he appraised her attire, his black eyes seeming to probe through what little she wore. "Show me," he said simply.

Hermione blinked. "Show you…?"

He said nothing and instead raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms and waited.

She stood there for a frozen moment, processing his words. What she wanted was him. For him to keep _looking_ at her the way he was, to _touch_ her the way she knew he could…

Steeling her nerves, she caught the waistband of her thin satin shorts and slowly began peeling them down. This was what she'd been yearning for all night. The heat and tension of feeling his attention upon her, knowing he would make her beg for every ounce of pleasure he gave her. His eyes darkened as she folded over the waistband, slow and teasing as she exposed the topmost bits of the soft hairs at the top of her mound. She tugged them lower still, her confidence growing under the heat of her husband's gaze.

She stopped only when her cunt was completely exposed and her shorts were pooled around her ankles. She let him take in the patch of neatly trimmed hair on her mound, down to where her lips exposed her swollen clit. She knew that some of the slick wetness that had trickled down her thigh likely glistened in the light. He watched her steadily for a few long moments, her arousal only growing the longer the silence stretched.

"Sit," he said.

She stepped out of her shorts, the chill on her cunt only further inflaming her arousal. She made toward the empty seat beside him only for it to slide away from her. She scowled and made for the one on his other side only for that one to slip away as well.

"Sit, Mrs. Snape," he said again, and it was then that she understood his intention.

She stepped forward until she could lower herself into his lap. She could feel his hardness beneath his robes and ground herself slowly against it until his hands on her hips held her firmly in place.

"Tell me," he started, his voice low and seductive in her ear as he spoke, "what would I get if I mixed peppermint, powdered moonstone, pearl dust…"

He was _kidding_. Hermione rubbed against where his hand had stopped its ascent up her thigh. "Severus," she groaned, "I can't, I need you—" she was stopped short by him snapping two fingers against her inner thigh.

"Answer the question, Mrs. Snape." His hand resumed its slow ascent up her thigh. "Rose thorns, ashwinder eggs…"

"A…" Hermione's thoughts were a jumbled mass of pleasure as his fingertips teased across her clit.

He gave her a light smack on her clit and she gasped. "Time wasted only adds a lengthier punishment."

His threat sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine. "It's a…" she gasped again as he dipped one finger inside of her only to take it out just as quickly. "—love potion," she gasped.

He slapped her clit once more and she mewled.

"Incorrect." She could hear the smirk in his voice. "You neglected to ask if those were all the ingredients."

Hermione ground openly against him again, trying — and failing — to get his fingers to slip inside her once again. "Tell me."

"Rose petals, fluxweed, and…" Two fingers slid inside of her and stayed there, woefully unmoving. "Unicorn hair."

"I…" Hermione moaned as his fingers started to move, tearing her further away from the calculations she tried to make in her head. "Severus, please." She let her head fall back onto his shoulder as he moved his fingers within her.

As if sensing how close she was to tumbling over the edge, he slowed his movements. "Think," he said.

He let out a low chuckle as she tried to ride his fingers anyway, seeking the same sensation as when they'd been curled inside of her only moments before.

She forced herself to focus through the haze of lust, desperately seeking the answer—

"An aphrodisiac," she said.

There was a moment of suspended silence where all she could feel was her walls pulsing around his fingers in anticipation.

"Correct," he smirked against her skin. His fingers restarted with renewed vigor, pumping and curling within her at a pace that had her shouting out her climax only seconds later. Before she'd finished twitching out the last of the aftershocks, Severus lifted her and carried her a few steps away. He lifted her arms over her head and she watched as he summoned a length of rope from a shelf and let it wrap itself around her wrists in an intricate knot before attaching itself to the ceiling above her.

He circled her slowly, taking in every inch of her. Her entire body vibrated with anticipation as she waited for his next move. He flicked a finger over where a hard nipple strained through her top before drawing it down, down, down until it threaded through the soft hairs of her mound.

"Which would you like first — your punishment or your reward?" His finger drew through the slickness that coated her clit.

Hermione moaned and rolled against his fingertip, yearning for more than the light, teasing touches he was giving her. She wanted...both.

"Reward first," she gasped as his finger pressed down more insistently.

"Very well," he smirked.

She hadn't noticed when he'd divested himself of his topmost layers, but she now saw that he wore nothing but a shirt and trousers. His hand moved to the placket of his trousers, and he slowly undid his trousers until his cock hung out, hard and flushed with need.

He stepped closer, smirking down at where she was already trying to spread her legs wide for him. He stopped when he was but a hair's breadth away before he drew her into a bruising kiss.

Hermione practically keened in his arms, drawing him as close to her as she could despite her bound hands. He kissed her back as desperately as she kissed him, both lost in their burning lust. His hard cock was trapped between them, and she tried to hitch her legs around his waist, grinding herself against him.

"Please," she moaned when he moved to suck at her neck.

She felt him smile into her skin before he hitched her legs properly around him. He then caught his cock and guided it inside her in one fluid movement. They both gasped as he entered her slowly, her slick cunt stretching slowly to accommodate his girth.

Hermione moaned and pressed herself down further on his length as he slowly slid himself in and back out of her. She was so tightly wound with pleasure that she could feel a second climax quickly approaching. He pulled out and snapped his hips against hers again and she let out a loud gasp of pleasure.

She kissed him again, moaning into him as she felt herself approaching the precipice—

He pulled out abruptly, leaving her walls convulsing around emptiness where she'd once been so deliciously full.

" _Severus,_ " she whined as he smirked again. "I need you, please—"

He ran a finger up her throat until he could tilt her chin upward. "You seem to have forgotten your punishment," he said. He turned and walked over to the nearest shelf. His cock was hard and still gleamed with her wetness, bobbing as he moved. He tapped his wand and a nondescript wooden box transformed into a familiar gleaming silver box.

"Oh," she breathed as she watched him pull off the lid and lift out a familiar onyx paddle. The carved out snake that was curved into an intricate "S" was at the center of her vision as he moved closer until he stopped before her. She pressed her thighs together as she recalled the pleasure commingled with the pain when he used it on her, leaving his personal insignia branded into her bottom and thighs until she would spell them away at the last possible moment.

"Besides," he said lowly, "is the punishment not the true reward?"

The last thing she saw was dark, shimmering fabric as her eyes were suddenly covered in darkness. She felt the tie secure itself behind her head, further cementing the newfound darkness.

There was nothing— but anticipation almost left a physical sensation across her body— then there was his finger at her slit, slipping down until he plunged it inside of her. She cried out at the suddenness of the sensation — and the pleasure that accompanied it.

"It excites you, does it not?" She shivered from the sensation of her husband's breath so close to her ear, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Good."

Her only warning was a whoosh of air before the paddle connected with her behind. "Ah!" she cried, feeling the lingering sting of it and imagining the reddened "S" that had now formed there.

He gave her only a second to catch her breath before he brought the paddle down three more times in quick succession, alternating between her arsecheeks and her thighs.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" she cried with each swipe. She panted hard when he stopped, her toes curling against the stone floor as she waited for him to continue. Her heavy breaths filled the silence, her anticipation peaking as—

She froze when she heard it. It was almost drowned out by the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, but unmistakable nonetheless.

Footsteps.

Panic flooded her brain as she thought of her position, her cunt on display while she wore nothing but a scrap of thin satin on top—

"It appears we have a visitor." Severus was nonchalant, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

"A—a vis—" Panic continued to course through her as she realized she would be unable to hide quickly enough, bound to her position by the rope that held her fast to the ceiling.

The footsteps were louder now, drawing dangerously close to where they were.

"Shall we ask him if he cares to join?"

Hermione was still frozen, her heart still racing. "Am— am I married to him?" she blurted out, the words coming out before she could manage to think her question through.

The footsteps stopped.

She heard a low, familiar chuckle. "I believe you are," the newcomer answered, just the sound of his voice managing to send more heat to her core.

"Yellow," she said.

The cloth fell away from her eyes not a moment later, revealing Lucius standing before her. His grey eyes were dark as they trailed over her body, and she shivered as though he was touching rather than just looking at her.

His eyes stopped on hers, searching hers as much as she did his. She looked to Severus who stood beside him, then between them again. The tension was thick, and she was the only one who could break it. Her heart thrummed as the thought of what would transpire if she were to utter only one word. They were her husbands. The fathers of her children. She could trust them. It was undeniable that she wanted — _needed_ — them both. Above that…

They wanted her, too. Both men's eyes were dark with desire. Severus' cock still hung from his trousers, hard and gleaming as he watched her, waiting. Their desire propelled her own, coursing through her in an inferno that only their touch could put out—

"Green," she breathed.

There was a beat of frozen silence before she felt the ropes loosening and falling into tatters around her. Lucius moved his wand from where it had been pointed at the rope to one of the stools behind them. With one flick of his wrist, he summoned it and transfigured it into a velvet-lined bench. He settled down upon it, his eyes never leaving her body.

He lifted a finger and twirled it in a slow circle. It took him raising an eyebrow at her for her to realize what he wanted. She turned slowly, stopping only once she was facing him again.

A bemused smirk played on Lucius' lips. "I see you've lain claim upon our wife," he said.

"Naturally," Severus answered.

"Closer."

Again, it took Hermione a moment to realize Lucius had switched to speaking to her again. She stepped closer until his hand seized her hip and he twisted her around until the markings scattered along the skin of her arse and thighs were bared to him. Hermione shivered with pleasure as his warm hand traced the marks.

"You always were one for theatrics, Severus," Lucius remarked casually as he ran two fingers between her lips to find her opening before slipping them inside.

Hermione's barely contained moans nearly drowned out Severus' response. "Hardly," he scoffed. "Just how many peacocks is it that you have again?"

Lucius chuckled lowly. "Fair enough." His fingers continued to spear inside of her, and her breathing grew more labored with his every movement. He pulled out abruptly. "I'd like to make a few marks of my own, wife." He spread his legs and looked at her expectantly.

Hermione moved on shaky legs until she could drape herself over his lap. Immediately, he rained down a series of slaps on her already reddened skin. He rubbed her bottom in slow, teasing strokes immediately after. Hermione moaned and rolled her hips against him, trying to increase the friction of her clit against his trousers.

He gave her three more hard smacks. "I don't believe I gave you permission to come, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Please," Hermione said, moaning as she tried to rub herself on him again despite his warning.

He forced her legs further apart and plunged three fingers inside her without preamble, making Hermione cry out at the sudden intrusion and try in vain to ride his fingers.

"So tight despite all the cock you take," Lucius said, plunging his fingers deeper.

"Indeed," Severus said. Hermione turned her head weakly to find him casually stroking himself as he watched her. "Impressive, I must say."

"More," she moaned. "Please…" She felt mindless with lust.

"What is it that you're requesting, Mrs. Snape?" Severus asked. He flicked two fingers and her top disintegrated. He stepped closer and palmed a breast, flicking his thumb casually over a nipple.

"Do tell," Lucius said, slowing the pace of his fingers just as her walls began to flutter around him.

"You," she moaned, then bit her lip. "Both of you," she added more softly.

Severus raised an eyebrow and squeezed her breast harder. "You have us both, do you not?"

Lucius chuckled and pressed his fingers in deeper, curling them in a way that made her shudder. "Are you not satisfied with what you're being given?" She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Cock," she said, panting. "Cock, please, I need your cock."

Lucius pulled his fingers out of her entirely and she moaned at the loss. She reached up a hand to paw at where Severus' cock bobbed before her, smiling as he shuddered. His length was too thick for her hand to close around it completely, so she settled for running a hand up and down his velvety length, feeling the thick veins that pulsed beneath it as she explored him.

She felt Lucius undoing his trousers and rubbed herself against him, desperate for what she knew was coming. She yelped when she was suddenly lifted bodily, her hand falling away from Severus' cock before she found herself being pressed face down into the bench's plush velvet cushion. She felt the bench widen, and not a second later Lucius lifted her knees and spread them wide, presenting her wet cunt to him.

He shoved his cock inside of her in one hard thrust, and Hermione screamed. His hips snapped hard against hers as he started fucking her with rough, deep strokes. Hermione's body seized and convulsed around him as her orgasm took her without warning, drowning out every feeling except that of the delicious slide of her husband's cock within her. She was vaguely aware of herself making incomprehensible noises as her body continued to spasm, but all she could focus on was the feeling that overwhelmed her. Tears stung her eyes as the waves continued to hit her, drawn out in their intensity.

It was what felt like minutes before she came to to find Severus kneeling in front of her, his thick, weeping cock prodding against her cheek. Lucius hadn't ceased his pounding, his rough fucking only inflaming the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Severus pulled her up until he could slide his cock in her mouth. She straightened until she was properly on her hands and knees, her hands shaky but strengthened by her determination to pleasure him. She sucked his cock greedily, and the lewd, wet noises she made only added to the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin as Lucius continued to pound away at her from behind.

She shivered when she felt one of Lucius' fingers prodding at her rear hole. "I do recall promising you that I would one day take you here," he mused, not sounding even remotely out of breath despite his vigorous strokes.

Hermione managed only to moan her acquiescence around Severus' cock, which in turn made him tangle his fingers in her hair and press her down deeper upon his cock. She felt a soothing wetness as her rear hole relaxed under Lucius' muttered spell before he slipped a finger inside.

"Yes," she heard him chuckle lowly, "I do think I shall."

He slipped his cock out of her a moment later, and she pulled off of Severus' cock to gasped at the loss. " _More—"_

Severus immediately drew her head back. "I do not recall giving you permission to stop," he said, drawing the wet tip of his cock across her face and leaving a sticky trail of precum in its wake before plunging it back inside of her mouth.

She continued to suck at him liberally for a few more moments before she felt Lucius' hand tap her thigh. She pulled off of Severus to see Lucius leaning back on an elbow, slowly stroking himself as he watched her. He looked down at his cock before raising an eyebrow at her.

She obeyed immediately. She crawled over and positioned herself above his cock, reaching down a hand to guide him into her back entrance when he offered her no assistance. She gasped as she slowly let him fill her, all the while watching Severus through hooded eyelids as he stroked himself and approached.

Her legs were spread wide, giving him an unobstructed display of her dripping cunt. "Please," she moaned, too overcome with lust to form her request in words.

Lucius reared up and forced her the rest of the way down on his cock then, while Severus moved forward until he could slide himself inside of her waiting cunt in one smooth movement.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes at the perfection of the fullness of their two thick cocks. Her husbands began fucking her with abandon, and she lost herself to the overwhelming pleasure of the two men inside of her. She no longer knew where her body ended and theirs began, only that their fluid movements as a whole created a blinding pleasure within her so intense that she lost herself completely to the sensation.

It was only when she came to a short while later that she realized she'd briefly blacked out from the overwhelming pleasure. She blinked open heavy lids to find Severus watching her concernedly.

"Are you alright?" he asked. He cupped her cheek and wiped away a stray tear that had fallen there.

Hermione smiled, still feeling dazed. "More than." Her voice came out in a slur. Both men's cocks were still buried deep inside of her, and her cunt still fluttered aftershocks around them.

Lucius had an arm tightly around her waist, holding her securely. She had fallen mostly backward into his chest, and flushed and sat up straight when she realized he was only holding them up with one arm — not that he appeared to be struggling.

Severus pulled himself out of her cunt with a lewd wet sound, and she looked down to see his come dribbling out. He smirked before taking two fingers and sliding it back inside of her. "Would be a shame to waste it." He pressed his fingers inside of her until she let out a low moan. Hermione hummed in contentment as she felt Severus' hand withdraw and he began rubbing her thigh slowly.

Lucius' arm tightened gently around her middle. "Are you certain you're alright?"

"Mm," Hermione responded, turning to kiss him.

He nodded when she pulled back and lifted her off of his cock. She felt his come sliding out of her and sighed contentedly as he laid her down upon the plush velvet.

"Thank you," she said, sighing happily. He nodded and slid away.

She felt a wetness against her cunt and looked down to see Severus wiping gently at her holes with a damp cloth. She lay back again and let out a soft hum of appreciation at the tingle of it against her still-sensitive cunt. She heard a rustle of clothing and then footsteps, and managed to raise herself on weakened arms to see Lucius' back as he exited through the open doorway.

Severus followed her gaze. "Lucius is…" he trailed off.

Hermione nodded. "I understand."

Severus lifted her gently in his arms and waved his hands over her, spelling the rest of her body clean. She sighed contentedly as he turned her over and rubbed a salve into her reddened bottom, soothing it whilst ensuring that the reddened marks remained. He then wrapped her in a soft blanket before giving her a slow kiss.

"I love you," she said when he pulled back.

He looked deeply into her eyes before drawing her into another deep kiss. He cupped her cheek and stroked it softly with his thumb when he pulled back. "I…"

She knew that he struggled with the words, often relying on action instead. "I know," she said, silencing him. "I know."

* * *

 **I'm a day late, but I hope you all enjoyed a good dose of Severus in celebration of his 60th (!) birthday. This has, of course, been one of my most highly requested chapters since the start, lolol. Can't wait to hear your thoughts!**

 **Also, a question for you all that I've also posted on Facebook: I've had an uptick in PMs from people with questions about my fics that have mostly been prefaced with them saying how nervous they were to reach out. I always want to be accessible to you all, so I'd love to hear your thoughts on how I can increase this in a way that's most comfortable for you all. Would you guys like to see planned times that I'll be available for you all to ask away on Discord? Make an open Facebook post that you can ask questions on? Something similar on tumblr? Something else? Let me know your thoughts and suggestions - I love interacting with you all and my inbox is always open. I also have to apologize for not thinking of this sooner - I get so excited to hear from you so never feel nervous to reach out!**

 **For updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	52. Chapter 52

**Hi everyone! Been a while, hasn't it? I apologize in advance for the longer A/N, but I feel it's quite necessary to address my absence at this point:**

 **I know I've been quite sporadic and MIA with updates of late. I've been going through some stressful times in my personal life, and writing has had to take a bit of a backburner at times. It's been a while since I mentioned it, but I'm also having ongoing issues with one of my hands, which makes it quite difficult to write at times. I've also just dedicated a lot of time over the past year to writing, and I've been feeling a little burned out and in need of a little regrouping. In a year, I posted 50 chapters of A Contract Most Inconvenient and 21 chapters of Entanglement. It might not be a lot to some, but it's quite a bit to me in retrospect.**

 **Because of this, I'm going to continue to be sporadic for the foreseeable future. Writing is something I have always and will always adore, but I also need a bit of time for self-care — not just for my hand, but just to regroup and get myself back into a headspace where I update more frequently again. This of course doesn't mean that I'll be disappearing, but just that I'll continue to be sporadic in hopes that I can write ahead more make a decent chapter buildup which will be quite a help in the long run. Thank you all so much for following and bearing with me. My hand surgery has been delayed due to the current state of affairs for obvious reasons (praying for the health and safety of you all and your loved ones!), but I'm hoping to update as much as I can.**

 **Again, I won't be disappearing completely of course - I'm always around on discord and I always try and answer asks, etc in as timely as a manner as I'm able. I love you all - thank you so much for bearing with me and following my fic. It means the world to me - truly.**

 **As always, so much love goes out to RESimon — I've found an amazing friend beyond a beta in you. Thank you for always being there for me.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO**

"Welcome, Mrs. Shacklebolt," The tall, sandy-haired host greeted Hermione as she approached, looking unperturbed despite the way she rushed toward him.

She greeted him in a rush before stumbling through the tall, gilded door he spelled open to reveal where her family awaited her in the private dining room beyond. The circular room was surrounded by sprawling windows that displayed a thick blanket of twinkling stars beyond. The room was decorated in muted shades of cream, accented with ornate gold finishings that curled along the walls in intricate patterns and gilded the elegant furnishings that were placed around the room.

The private dining room was dominated by a large circular table, around which her family sat. Her parents sat flanked by Lucius and Arthur— each of whom looked nearly as uncomfortable as her father did. Harry, Neville, and Draco sat in a row, and all gave her bright smiles and greetings as she entered. Severus was as stoic as ever, although she caught his lip twitch as he took in her flustered appearance. Kingsley and Sirius each stood and pulled out a chair for her between them as everyone said their greetings to her.

"Hi," she said breathlessly. "I'm so sorry."

"Erm, 'Mione…" Harry started, "I think you've forgotten something?"

Hermione adjusted her arms around James, who had his two little fists buried in her robes. "He's going through a mummy phase," she said. "I couldn't just leave him — Draco!"

Draco's eyes widened at her bark. "Yes—?"

Hermione jabbed a finger in his direction. "Do _not_ let him see you. Or you," she added, jerking her finger at Harry. "He's been latched to me all day and I can't lose a moment."

"Hermione," her mother rolled her eyes. "You really must learn to let go a bit sometimes—"

"— and that day is _not_ today," Hermione answered smoothly, tucking James into her chest as she slid into the seat Kingsley and Sirius still held out for her.

Hermione caught Sirius stifling a smile and gave him a playful swat on the arm. He shot her a bright smile as Kinglsey began to speak from where he still stood beside her.

"As we all know, we've all gathered here tonight to celebrate Hermione's achievement of getting more than half of her proposal approved," he said, smiling down at her as she flushed. "She's done a mighty service to much of Wizarding society as we've adapted to this change, and her generosity in pouring so much of herself into this after all she's already contributed toward our survival will never be forgotten."

He turned to her then, giving her a warm smile as her cheeks warmed more in response to the entire room's attention on her. "I have never been prouder to call you my wife, and I have no doubts that the other men gathered here for you would vehemently agree. Thank you, Hermione. For your kindness, your generosity, your unfailing love of our society, and most of all of the love and dedication you show to our ever-expanding family—" he tickled James' hand where the infant was grabbing at his robes, " — and for all you've done for every one of us."

Hermione felt tears gathering in her eyes and buried her head in James' thick tuft of downy black hair before they could fall. As if on cue, James stretched his own arms around her in the semblance of a hug and sighed into her chest just as Kingsley toasted to her, everyone in the room repeating "To Hermione!" in synchronized suit.

A stray tear fell anyway, and she quickly wiped it away as she lifted her own glass. Her husbands' faces were blurred by the tears still gathered in her eyes and their raised glasses, yet she didn't need to see them to know them, to _feel_ them there and relish in the sense of completion she felt with them all gathered around her.

It felt like home.

Hermione continued to look around at her husbands with stars in her eyes as the first course of their meal appeared in front of them.

She had just begun to sip from her goblet of wine when her father spoke. "So, Lucius," he started, "who was that woman you were whispering with in the parlour earlier? An old mistress, perhaps?"

Hermione simultaneously choked and nearly dropped her goblet, sloshing wine over James' head in the process. " _Dad_ —oh Merlin James _I'm so sorry_ —"

James looked up at his mother in confusion, droplets of wine dripping onto his cheeks.

" _Michael_ —" Hermione's mother started, her voice drowned out by Harry, Draco, and Neville's guffaws.

"Really, Harry?" Sirius' tone was stern although Hermione caught a smirk tugging at his lips before he ducked to spell away the mess atop James' head.

Harry shrugged. "Malfoy knows it's nothing compared to when Emma—"

" _Potter and Malfoy—"_ Severus' dark tone had them cutting off their laughs sharply, both men freezing

"You didn't see the way she was acting, Rose—" Hermione's father continued on the other side of the table.

"Do explain then, Lucius?" her mother asked, watching the man pointedly.

Lucius was sitting stiffly, and she caught his fingers tighten on his goblet before he answered. "Mrs. Zabini is a business associate."

Hermione cradled James to her chest and continued plant apologetic kisses into his downy black hair, all the while glaring at Lucius over her son's head. She opened her mouth to speak when James lunged forward suddenly. He grabbed at the roasted potatoes on Hermione's dinner plate, scattering some across the table.

"James!" Hermione tried to pry the infant's hand off of her plate, which only succeeded in dragging the plate closer to teetering off the edge.

James giggled happily as he brought the potato mashed in his fist back to his mouth. Hermione pried at his fingers and had succeeded only in getting about half the potato out of his fist when she noticed that the chaos in the room had fallen abruptly silent. Hermione looked up and blinked at where half of the table's occupants were staring at her pointedly, while the others were politely averting their gazes.

Hermione blinked, her brow furrowed as she took in the odd scene.

"Love," Sirius whispered from beside her. "Your robes."

Hermione's eyes flew down to where one of James' fists was still buried in the front of her robes. While her son munched happily on the potato he'd crushed in his fist, he'd also managed to drag down the subtle cut of her robes to a scandalous level, exposing the lacy red brassiere she wore that was nearly completely transparent.

Hermione's eyes bugged out of her head as she scrambled to pry James' fingers from her front. "James!"

The infant burst into giggles as he gripped harder, his grip surprisingly strong despite her efforts.

"So," Sirius broke the awkward silence, "who's interested in dessert?"

 **X**

"Morning," Hermione mumbled, sliding her hand across the sheets until she felt the bare skin of her husband's chest beneath her fingers.

"Morning," he said back, sounding decidedly more awake than she felt. She hummed contentedly at the feeling of Arthur's voice rumbling in his chest and shifted forward until she could press more of her bare skin into his equally bare side.

"Why are you always so chipper in the mornings?" she said, her heavy lids still refusing to open. "Why are you always so chipper altogether?" Her voice started strengthening from its initial croak the more she spoke, and she slowly slid open her lids to find him smiling down at her.

His thumb caressed her cheek. "How could I not be, waking up next to you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, although she could not stop a small smile from ghosting across her lips. "My hair is a disaster and my breath is frightful—" she paused to quickly cast freshening charms on their breaths, "— but you see _none_ of it?"

Even as she said that she found herself admiring him herself. A soft smile played on his full lips, the small movement stretching up to crinkle the corner of his eyes that shone cerulean in the morning light.

"All I see is my beautiful wife next to me," he said, cupping her bare hip and caressing his fingers along it in a way that made a pleasant shiver radiate through her body.

She smiled and lifted a hand to trace it down his cheek to his jaw, pausing to brush her thumb across every smile line that she encountered. Arthur was a man of quiet beauty,

"You really don't look that old, you know," she said absently, her eyes roaming his face.

Her words only caught up with her as Arthur's brows raised. "Is that so?" he chuckled.

Hermione flushed. "I just— I mean, a muggle man in his fifties would look—" she faltered as Arthur's chest continued to vibrate with laughter.

"Old?" Arthur's eyes twinkled. "Like me?"

Hermione giggled at the mirth in his eyes. "Mhm," she hummed, her heart swelling at the sight of the mirth in his eyes. She ran a hand through his hair. "In fact, I think I can feel a bald spot sprouting up right here—"

Arthur plucked her hand from his head and kissed her fingers. "Nice try. You know as well as I that Fred and George have done enough experimentation on my head that nothing will ever shed — or possibly grow — from this head again."

Hermione giggled and leaned up to peck him. When she made to pull away, he caught her jaw and drew her in for a deeper kiss. She shifted closer to him and kissed him back enthusiastically, allowing herself to be lost in the faint smell of peppermint that always seemed to linger on his breath. She bit back a moan as he swiped a practiced thumb over her nipple in the exact rhythm that never failed to leave her keening in moments. Her eyes strayed to where his cock lay soft on his thigh, just beginning to stir with attention. Her hand crept over to it and traced it gently, making him twitch with pleasure.

"Hermione," Arthur's tone made her pause her ministrations on his cock.

"Yes?" she eased herself up on an elbow.

"We can wait as long as you'd like," he said softly. "I would never rush you."

Hermione swallowed. Her hand left his cock and she wrung her fingers together nervously, looking away from him. They hadn't broached the subject of children since the Ministry's adoption of her proposal had happened. She'd avoided the subject whenever they were alone, her heart panging each time she caught the loving looks he'd give her children as he'd play with them. Even now, visions of a fiery-hair boy with bright blue eyes flashed through her mind unbidden, reminding her of what she'd be denying him in her delay.

"Hermione," Arthur watched as she sat up and drew her knees to her chest. "Talk to me." He caught her hands and stopped her from fiddling with them.

"I'm sorry," she said, hugging her knees tighter to her chest. "I've given five of my other husbands children already, and I know you have your own but—"

"Hermione—-"

"—I'm not ready for more yet. Not for now. If it happens then it will be wonderful, but for now, I need to focus on the children that I have. And I need you to unders—" She was cut off by Arthur's hand cupping her chin.

"Hermione," Arthur said, running a hand soothingly along her thigh, "I would love to have children with you someday."

"And you're sure you can wait?" Her eyes met his, looking for any hint of hesitation in them.

"They are all as much mine, Kinglsey's and Sirius' as they are the others'," he said. He leaned forward and gave her a slow kiss. "We'll wait. As long as you want — whether you choose to or not."

He pulled her towards him and she melted into his hug, taking comfort in the feeling of his warm skin pressed against hers. She held him back, allowing herself to fall completely into the quiet calm of the feeling of being wrapped in her husband's arms. She smiled into his skin at the feeling of his heartbeat thudding a steady rhythm in his chest, reminding her of the beauty of being able to immerse herself in a moment where it was just _them_.

Arthur's fingers curled into her hair, and he pressed kisses into it every few moments. "And even though we might not be having any yet," he said eventually, "a little practice wouldn't hurt now, would it?"

Hermione bit back a moan as he ran a finger down her stomach and cupped her sex. "Not at all," she gasped as two of his fingers dipped inside to find her still warm and wet from the night before.

He smiled and whispered a contraceptive charm before he eased his cock into her. He pressed his forehead to hers as they let out twin moans, their breaths mingling as he settled within her. He undulated his hips slowly and slit his eyes open to meet hers. The sense of completion she'd been feeling radiated tenfold, drawing her back into the feeling of everything but them ceasing to exist. She took in the way he panted softly as he pressed into her, his lips curling around unsaid expletives of pleasure while the only sound he would let escape was her name. Her name repeated after every other breath like a mantra, simultaneously possessive and tender, murmured in a way that made her feel as though she was the most precious thing he'd ever touched.

"I won't last long," he said when his hips began to glide faster into hers, snaking down a hand to press two fingers against her clit.

Hermione moaned. "You don't have to," she said, rolling back in a rhythm that had her jaw dropping open.

He flipped them until she was on her back. He started to pound harder, while his hand continued to work her to a steady climax. She brought up her hands to run them along his chest, teasing the smattering of hair there before sliding them down lower until her hand rested alongside where his was still working away at her clit. Her fingertips teased where his thick cock slid in and out of her, and an intense climax hit her without warning.

" _Arthur,_ " she moaned. He caught her lips with his not a moment later, and he kissed her messily as his hips started to pump into hers erratically.

They continued to kiss even as his hips slowed to a stop and he rested propped on his elbows above her. He pulled out and she let out a low whine at the loss, feeling his release sliding slowly out of her. He chuckled at her and dipped two fingers into the mess between her thighs, pressing it back into her cunt. They watched each other, their mutual high still lingering between them. She cupped his cheek and smiled at him, smiling wider as he smiled back in return.

He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles before he sat up. She sighed as she sat up too, watching him move to slip out of the bed. "Do you have to go already?" She did nothing to mask the sadness in her voice.

He turned back to her and gave her a sad smile. "Duty calls, I'm afraid."

She opened her mouth to make a quip about his duties as a husband before she faltered, taking in the stiff lines of tension that had slowly etched themselves into his forehead over the past few months. "I'll miss you," she said instead, doing nothing to hide the sadness in her voice.

"I should be going before we end up spending the rest of the morning in bed though," he said, his voice tinged with a sadness that echoed her own.

Hermione crawled to his side and gave him another lingering kiss. She kissed along his chest to his collarbone, smiling softly when he gave a satisfied hum in response. Her eyes strayed to where his soft pink cock lay on his thigh, still glistening with their mingled release.

She slid out of the bed and took his hand. "Come," she said. "You'll at least need to shower before you go."

Moments later, she was guiding him into the warm steam of her shower. She summoned a flannel lathered it slowly, taking her time as she watched Arthur close his eyes and let the water run over himself. She could not ignore the tension that hadn't dissipated from his form in months. She ran the flannel over his skin, rubbing in slow, gentle circles as she tried to erase the stress of the long hours he'd spent conducting failed interrogations of the man that had threatened their family, hoping she could communicate in her actions what words could not suffice for. She took her time in running it over every inch of him, listening to his satisfied hums as she worked her way over every inch of him. When she made it to his cock, she found him already half hard. Her eyes strayed to his, finding them darkened with lust as he watched her. The flannel slid from her fingers as she let him walk her backward until her back hit the tile.

He slid into her smoothly, her cunt still slick enough for him to ease in quickly. Instead of snapping his hips against hers, he began a slow grind against her, his pelvis meeting hers in a way that had her gasping and moaning beneath him in seconds. This time, she forced open her eyes to meet his and found him looking back at her, his entire focus on her dripping with affection. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead against his, hoping she was conveying even just a fraction of the warmth that spread in her heart for him. When they both crested a mutual orgasm, they shared a long, languid kiss, pouring their mutual affection into one another.

It was another long kiss later before they both stepped out of the shower. She followed Arthur back into the room as she spelled her towel atop her head, watching him silently as he spelled his own hair dry.

She leaned in the bathroom doorway and watched him gather their clothing from where it was still scattered across the floor, spelling the items into a neat pile. He lifted up her bra, his eye trained on the lacy red material. "I'm quite partial to this one, I'll admit," he smiled.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Must you remind me?" She said, thinking of James' antics the night before. "That reminds me that it's time for me to ask my parents to move back out." She added lightly.

She watched him move about in silence for a moment longer before she spoke. "How are things going with the interrogation?"

He paused mid-movement, and his towel suspended in midair for a moment before he let it float again and land on top of the rest of the pile. His nakedness gave her an unobstructed view of the tension that seized his body the moment she spoke the words.

He sighed. "Nothing to concern yourself with," he said, giving her the same robotic answer she'd been hearing for months now.

Hermione ground her teeth together. "I—"

"Things are fine," he cut her off swiftly, flicking his wand to banish the pile of clothes.

"I thought we'd agreed on no more secrets, no more lies—"

"I'm not lying to you, Hermione." His jaw was set stiffly as he averted his eyes.

Hermione scoffed. "Really? Then why have you been avoiding my question for months—"

"I've always answered you—"

Her fists clenched. "Giving the same generic lie every time is not an answer, Arthur."

He ran a hand over his face before he looked at her. "What do you want me to say?"

Hermione bit her lip hard as she tried to quell the surge of anger that rose up within her. "Something. Anything else other than what you've been saying all this time."

"I don't know what you want me to say when you know that nothing has changed."

Her heart panged as he said the words that had been haunting her ever since the night that they'd assured her that things would change. That she would be able to go back to worrying about all the things that she had before, which now seemed mundane in comparison to the _after_ she now found herself drowning in. She felt her throat starting to close up as panic set in, all of her worries about what wasn't happening bubbling to the surface—

"You know how much I love you, Hermione," he said, his voice cutting through before the panic could overwhelm her. "I will always do all that I can to protect you."

Hermione's jaw clenched, and her voice was tight as she spoke. "And I suppose my ignorance is the best form of protection, then?"

She met his eyes defiantly, waiting to see if he would waver and give her a morsel of anything that was hidden behind the hardness in his eyes. Instead, he stepped closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll get dressed and walk you to breakfast." He didn't wait for an answer before he disapparated.

Hermione dressed mechanically, her head still clouded with thoughts of what he was leaving unsaid. She emerged from her closet to find Arthur waiting for her, dressed immaculately in his Ministry-issued robes.

"Shall we?" He said, proffering his arm.

She nodded and let her hand rest in the crook of his elbow. He led her out of the room and toward the grand staircase in silence. Gone was the easy tenderness from earlier in the morning, replaced by a thick tension that only seemed to grow with each step they got closer to separating.

When they reached the bottom of the staircase, he caught her arm and stopped her. She looked up to see his eyes shining with conflict. She held her breath as she waited for him to waver, to tell her something, anything at all—

"I love you," he said. "Don't forget that."

 _Then why won't you tell me the truth? Why do you stand here and lie to me when I can see the truth fighting in your eyes? Why—_ "I love you too," she said softly.

She opened her mouth to speak again when she caught the sound of low voices coming from the sitting room nearest them. It took her only a moment to recognize them as Harry and Kingsley. She looked up at Arthur to find a pinched expression on his face. He didn't release her hand as she made to go toward the room. "Hermione—" he started, then wavered.

He did not fight her as she gently pried his fingers from her wrist. She caught his fingers in hers for a moment before she turned and made her way toward the sound. She stepped into the room to find Harry and Kingsley facing each other, giving one another tense looks. They looked up as she entered and straightened.

Harry smiled at her. "Mornin—"

"What's going on?" Hermione cut Harry off, glancing between the two men.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Hermione," Kingsley answered smoothly.

Arthur stepped in beside her, and she glanced up to see a silent communication ripple between her three husbands.

Hermione crossed her arms. "Is that so?" she said, looking between the two men before her before turning to see that Arthur's face has fallen blank as well. She felt a growing tightness in her chest. "We agreed that there would be no more secrets, no more lies," she said. "Yet here you are, lying to me."

Kingsley rubbed his temples. "We have told no lies, Hermione—"

"You have told no truths, either," she snapped.

A renewed silence fell, and the tightness in her chest only worsened. "Is that it, then?" she spoke through gritted teeth. "I know that it's about Lestrange. I'm tired of the whispers, and the looks you give me sometimes—" her voice trembled and she stopped.

"'Mione," Harry started, then faltered. He sank into an armchair and ran his hands through his tousled hair.

She turned to Arthur to see him and Kingsley exchanging a long look. Arthur's eyes flickered down to her. "Hermione—"

"Don't say anything if you're going to lie to me again," Hermione said. "And don't tell me that it's Ministry business, either. I'm your _wife,_ or have you forgotten?"

"Hermione," Arthur started again, "this isn't your battle to fight anymore. We don't want it to be."

Hermione stiffened. "It was my battle the moment they went after my child!"

"We're trying to protect you—"

"How is my continued ignorance of whatever it is that's going on _protection,_ Kingsley?"

She turned to Harry. "And even you? After all we've gone through together—" she sucked in a breath, catching the pained look that flashed across Harry's face. "You never used to lie to me, Harry. And now you do it each day."

"'Mione," he said, standing and crossing to her. "You know that isn't true," his voice faltered as she gave him a derisive glare.

"It's better that you don't speak at all then, because every word— every word breaks my heart," she said, turning to look at her other husbands. "From any of you."

Harry stood. "Maybe—"

"Harry," Kingsley warned.

"Really?" Hermione's snarl was sharper than she'd intended, but she couldn't find it in herself to stop an apologize while he continued to give Harry a hard, warning look.

"We need to tell her."

"What we need is to keep her safe, Harry." Kingsley's tone was sharper than she ever recalled having heard it, and it made her heart hammer in her chest.

"Keep me safe from _what?"_ Her heart started to race as she met the conflict in Harry's green eyes.

"You can't take on everything yourself, Hermione." Arthur's tone was soothing, but it did nothing to assuage the panic that continued to rise within her, tightening her throat.

"I am not a _child."_

"But you are our wife," Kingsley's eyes flashed. "And we will do everything we can to protect you."

Hermione glared back at him. "Are lies truly a form of protection?" She turned to Harry. "Are they, Harry?"

She watched him swallow thickly. "They aren't."

" _Harry,"_ Kingsley's voice was hard.

"Lestrange—he— he wants to speak with you. Only you."

* * *

 **Yes, yes I did just erase Arthur's bald spot from this timeline. It does not exist. lolol. Next chapter will be up sooner than I realized - I won't leave you all hanging for too long. Also, the Arthmione scene in this chapter was dedicated to my biggest Arthmione anti, Darkcat18 on ao3. She loves this fic and is also quite squicked by Arthmione, so the dedication felt fitting (love you, hehehe).**

 **As always, for updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or join my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	53. Chapter 53

**Thank you guys for waiting so patiently.** **Bless RESimon for her beta skills. Without her, I would not have been able to come this far.**

 **It has recently occurred to me that I haven't mentioned it here since I first posted it last year, but I do have another fic that I update regularly in addition to this one - it's a dark, War-era Dramione titled Entanglement. I know that some of you are crossover followers of both of my fics, and I'd like to thank you for nominating me in this year's Enchanted Awards!** ** **I've made it to the finals in the category for Best Angst. I love you all. There are so many incredible authors who've been nominated, so please do go check out the nominees and give them a vote if you feel so inclined: https:***/docs.**google***.com***/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSc9j4bPnjfVw1jqlAb2ScHQRNIHYLlIgE5GWK8ZU_w1o78Ebw/viewform (remove all *'s, of course!). Voting is open until April 30th.****

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE**

Hermione kept her gaze steady as her eyes traveled around the room, meeting those of each of her husbands. Each man looked back at her, their expressions ranging from outward derision to thinly veiled anger.

"You're not leaving this fucking Manor, Hermione." Sirius' tone was as cutting as the look in his eyes as she met them.

Hermione held his gaze steadily as she looked back at him. "Let me be clear: I called this meeting because as your wife, I promised you all that there would be no more secrets and no more lies," she said, looking around the room once more, "which is why I'm here being honest about what I'm going to do—"

"The point of calling a family meeting is to vote, Granger," Draco cut her off. "And if you think—"

"I _know_ that I'm going," Hermione answered sharply. "I'm here to give you all the courtesy of knowing what I'll be doing—"

"Do you understand the gravity of what you're proposing?" Neville was leaning against the fireplace, arms crossed tightly across his chest. "Do you not understand what he's capable of?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Why do you think I'm going?"

"How many times have you argued that you're a woman, yet insist on acting like an insolent child?"

" _Lucius—"_ Arthur started.

"Do you not agree?" Lucius stood up from the armchair he'd been seated in. "What good do you expect to come from this?"

Hermione's glared at him. "I expect—"

"Answers?" Neville let out a scoff. "An explanation about why he's a complete psych—"

"Don't speak to me as if I have no sense," Hermione snapped. "I know what I'm doing."

Harry pulled off his spectacles and ran his hands over his face. "I don't think you do, Hermione," Harry said. "I told you because we agreed to be honest, not because I want you—"

Severus moved abruptly from where he'd been standing by a window with a dark expression on his face. He stalked over to where Harry sat, bearing down over him menacingly. " _Then you shouldn't have told her in the first place, Potter."_ His voice was like ice, and Hermione caught Harry's eyes widen briefly before his lips flattened into a thin line.

"Do you propose that we should have lied to her, then?" Harry shot back.

Hermione's eyes cut daggers at him. "As you've been doing for months now, you mean?"

Draco cursed. "That's not the point, Granger!"

" _He touched my daughter!"_ Hermione's scream was sudden, the sound echoing in the silence. "Our child." She looked at Lucius, meeting his hardened expression. "All of ours," she added, looking around the room.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the tense silence that had fallen upon the room. "Do you think I want to fight right now?"

"Then why are you?" Sirius' voice was laced with derision.

"What do you suppose we do then, hm?" She looked at Kingsley. "Are we going to go back to the failed interrogations you've been trying to do for months now?"

"Yes," Kingsley answered swiftly. "We will try for as long as necessary."

Kinglsey's tone rang with a finality that reminded her of his position of authority, but Hermione did not back down. "For how much longer? Months? A year?" Her chest tightened. "He threatened you. He threatened my family. I can't sleep alone anymore because of the nightmares, because of how much I wonder if we've missed something if there's still a way he can harm us—"

"There isn't," Arthur answered steadily.

"Then let me go," she begged softly. "Let me go because this is the only way we will get any peace."

Severus turned his glare to Kingsley. "You're the damned Minister for Magic and you couldn't manage to keep one thing quiet?" His teeth were bared as he stared Kingsley down, his entire body vibrating with rage.

"I did what I could, Severus."

Draco scoffed. "Is that so? Then do tell us why our darling wife plans to run off _again_ —"

"I—"

" _Don't,_ Hermione," Sirius snapped. His arms were crossed tightly as he looked at her with a dark expression. "Do not stand here and try and justify yourself by saying that we should be _grateful_ that instead of sneaking you're here, flaunting it in our faces—"

Neville straightened. "He's right! You're acting foolish—"

" — not to mention the fact that this is exactly what we were trying to avoid—"

" —have you ever considered the consequences, Mrs. Snape? Or do you always favor running headfirst into—"

" —you can say you want to go all you want, and we will wait you out until you see what an idiotic choice that is—"

"Stop it!" Hermione flew to her feet, running manic hands through her wild curls. "Do you think that this is a choice I've made lightly?! Do you think that I'd choose to put myself in harm's way and leave my children to grow up motherless, force you to endure the pain of my death for only a moment's worth of hesitation?! Lestrange is a master Occlumens. We will never get anything from him unless he volunteers it willingly, and this is our only chance to do so."

The room had gone silent at her outburst, but her husbands continued to glare at her.

"Do you think that I don't want to live?" Her throat tightened. "Do you think that every rash decision I've made over the past decade was for any reason other than my desperate will _to_ live?"

She sucked in a slow breath. "I want to live a full life. I want to live to see my children grow, and I want to be with each of you for as long as you'll have me. But in order to do so, I need to know that you're safe, that our children are safe—" She cut off and clasped a hand over her chest as she felt her heart spasm at the thought of losing her family. "But if— but if I don't do this now, can we ever be at peace?"

She turned and headed toward the doorway, each step feeling like wading through water as she tried to ignore the faces of her husbands as she moved past them. "Think about it from my perspective — then maybe, just maybe, you'll understand."

 **X**

A heavy hand closed over her shoulder, halting her footsteps which were the only sound in the cool, dark corridor.

"You can still leave, Hermione," Kinglsey said lowly.

Hermione held still, refusing to let herself turn and face him. She clenched her fist tight to stop its trembling. "I'll be fine."

There was a short silence before he sighed. "I thought we'd agreed on no more lies."

"We did, didn't we?" She let the accusation in her words go unspoken but knew he'd felt it nonetheless upon hearing his sharp intake of breath.

" _Please."_

She turned to see him looking at her with an expression so open, so vulnerable that her heart twisted at the sight. She'd grown so accustomed to seeing him as stoic and level-headed even in the most precarious of situations that no words of reassurance came to mind.

"I never wanted to lie to you," he started slowly, each word coming out as a pained whisper, "but I had to. Do you know what I've been able to do for you in our two years of marriage thus far?"

Hermione reached out to him. "Kingsley—"

He turned his head, but not before she caught the faraway look in his eyes. "I shielded you from this so fiercely because it's the only thing I can do. We're married, yet I barely see you, can barely do anything for you because I've been appointed to this position in such a tumultuous time that the fact that our society has been on the brink of collapse for years is constantly at the forefront of every task I've been appointed."

"You've done so much for me, Kingsley," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "My gratitude can't be expressed in words."

"Perhaps I have," he answered quietly. "But has it been enough? How could it ever be enough when I'm forced to put society's needs above my own each day?"

She crossed over to him silently and wrapped her arms around as much of his large frame as she could manage. She held him in silence as she listened to the rapid thump of his heartbeat, her own heart clenching as she knew that she could do nothing to stop the stress teeming off of his form.

"You're all I have," he said, twisting until he could lean down and press his forehead against hers. "I've been alone for decades, but now I have you and you're— everything, Hermione. I am so in love with you, but I haven't been able to find the courage to say it because how can I be worthy of your affection when I'm never here? When I've been given one task to protect you and I'm failing at that, too?"

A lone tear slipped down Hermione's cheek. "You have always been enough, Kingsley. Always." She leaned up to kiss him. "You always make yourself the protector, but— let me protect you, too. Let me love you, too," she whispered as she pulled back, lifting her hands to cup his cheeks. His eyes fell shut and he leaned into her touch, breathing deeply.

She rested her forehead against his once more, falling into silence with him as his breaths calmed until they synchronized with hers. When he finally opened his eyes again, they shared a long look before he nodded.

She pulled away slowly, letting her fingers skim down to catch his and squeeze them before she stepped back completely. "Open it. Please."

She turned away from her husband and stared at the nondescript door before her that was so akin to the dozens of heavy wooden ones she'd grown accustomed to at Hogwarts and in the Manor's dungeons alike, yet loomed with the presence of one many times its size.

Kingsley whispered a word and the door creaked open before her. She did not dare look back as she stepped in and let the door swing shut behind her, the sound echoing as loudly as the pounding of her heart.

 **X**

Cool tendrils of dread began curling in her chest the moment the door closed behind her. The room was dark, lit only by a dim candle in a sconce on the far wall. The only sound was the click of her low heels against the floor, each step echoing ominously as she moved. Despite the candle that burned softly, there was a chill in the room that went beyond the one that had settled in her bones. She let out a deep breath and swore she could nearly see the white puff of it dissipating before her.

She was surrounded by concrete on three sides, while the middle of the room was barren save for a lone wooden chair. She didn't dare sit in the chair, but instead faced the other side of the room that appeared to be almost a reflection of the side she stood on—

Save for the lone figure that sat in the chair opposite her.

His face was shrouded in shadow, but she could still feel the sinister energy that rolled off of him, enveloping the room in the heavy cloak of his foreboding presence. There was nothing between them save for a near-invisible wall that barely shimmered in the light, the wave of its magic creating an undercurrent that punctuated the tension.

It was Hermione who broke the silence. "What do you want from me?"

She was met by silence. She took a step closer to the shimmering wall, the proximity shedding just enough additional light for her to see the shadows twist slightly around his face. Still, she didn't need to be closer to know what played on his face.

A smirk.

Only half of his face was dimly lit by the light of the sconce on his side, but the shadows twisted slowly around where his mouth was, elongating as his cheeks stretched with the motion.

Her stomach lurched under the weight of the burning disgust that roiled within her.

"Lady _Malfoy_." Disdain curled around each word, drawn out in a low, deep voice.

The chill that had been spreading in her bones rushed through her in a torrent, drenching her in a deep cold that froze her to her spot.

He chuckled lowly, the sound somehow managing to reverberate around the room.

It took everything in her will to unfreeze and re-gather the fiery resolve she'd entered the room with, reminding herself of why she had come. His figure remained unmoved, and she did not need to see his eyes to feel the way they burned into her.

At once, the tension within her snapped, releasing her frozen limbs she attempted to maintain her composure as she moved toward the wall. Even from a short distance away, she could feel the hum of the magic it was charged with, waiting to unleash itself on the man it held captive at the slightest hint of his touch.

" _Why?"_ The word was drawn out, her tongue laden with emotion so thick that she struggled to form the word at all.

She was met with silence. Heat flushed through her body the longer the silence drew out, her chest tightening the longer he watched her with that sinister, shadowed smirk.

"Why do you think?" He asked, almost sounding bored as he picked the dirt from underneath his fingernails, barely paying her display any attention.

Her fists were so tight that she could feel her fingers digging crescent moons into her palms. "Tell me why he did it."

He paused and looked up at her slowly. "I see you've come to ask the wrong questions."

Heat flashed through her. "I am not here to play games with you."

He resumed examining his hand. "I told them months ago I wanted to grant you an audience. Do they truly think I am still feeling generous?"

Her jaw trembled with tension as she gritted her teeth. "You are a _monster."_

He leaned forward then, and she bit back a gasp. What the shadows had hidden a moment before was now worsened by them, the light playing on the grotesque destruction of half of his face. The flesh was made up of raw shades of pink and red, the skin warped and wilted like hot wax that had been pressed back into the completely wrong shape. While one half was completely deformed, the other had long, puckered scars drawn across it, the burned flesh looking as though it had been mended by untrained hands.

The smirk was all the more insidious stretched across his melted mouth, one side stretched permanently downward although his amusement was unmistakable. "Perhaps. Tell me, Lady Malfoy," he started slowly. "Which crimes of moral turpitude do you draw your figurative lines at, I wonder?"

Hermione schooled her features into an impenetrable mask despite the anger that threatened to shatter it.

Her answering silence only seemed to please him. He cocked his head as though in contemplation. "Assault? Torture?" There was a flash of yellowed teeth, and then, "or murder, perhaps?"

Hermione's chest tightened. "All crimes for which you have been imprisoned."

Lestrange tutted. "Ah," he said, his eyes penetrating. "So imprisonment is your proposed punishment?"

"You're wasting my time—" she started through gritted teeth.

" —yet all of your husbands have committed at least one, if not all of the aforementioned crimes, have they not?"

Hermione stiffened. "My husbands are better men than you have ever known."

"Ah." He chuckled, and the sound rippled through her in the form of a dark chill. "The scale of morality can be bent to suit your interpretation, then?"

A hot flush of anger flooded through her. "Any such crimes you speak of were not done without reason, nor without—"

His low laugh cut her off. " _Reason_ , you say? I myself can say that I have never done anything without reason, either. Do you think such crimes are preceded by no motivation, no emotion?"

The rage that flowed through her was so hot, so potent, that the words struggled to form over the thickness of the emotion. "Your kin tried to harm my _child_ —"

He waved a hand. "An order I gave that he subsequently failed at, if I do recall correctly," he said, his tone as casual as though he were reciting what he'd eaten for breakfast that day. "Must I ask for repentance for a crime that was never wholly committed?"

This time, Hermione's silence was thick with horror, the man's words grating beneath her skin. " _You_ ordered him to harm my child — to rob me, to—"

"The child was all I cared for," he cut her off sharply. "The child and you yourself, I should say. The rest was but a frolick of his own, fueled by his own delusions of grandeur."

Hermione's body practically trembled with the need to lunge at the thin magical wall that separated them, to beat at it and scream herself hoarse. Yet when she gathered her voice, she found she could again only form one word: "Why _?"_

"Because your lives and your freedom are tethered to that of a man who deserves none."

Hermione remained frozen in her spot, watching his eyes flicker over every minute twitch in her expression, and the horror of his words washed over her. " _Lucius."_

The word left her almost like a sigh, without conscious thought or intention, yet felt as heavy as lead on her tongue as it came out. She'd spent so much time trying to convince herself that he'd gotten to Carina because she was the only one who'd been alone that night, that it was _her_ they were truly after and that she had _some_ control over how this could end—

But somewhere, somewhere deep inside, she'd known the attack on Carina had been no coincidence at all.

Lestrange resumed the same low, dark laugh. "And so she asks the right question."

She felt like she was falling apart, every bit of her being collapsing in on itself under the weight of his words. She struggled to grasp at the reasons she'd come here, the fact that she needed answers, but it all felt so deeply insignificant in the face of the chasm that had sprouted in her heart.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she opened her mouth to speak, the name forming in her mind although she had to force it out. "Lucius chose the right side."

His answer was nothing more than another smirk.

 _You're sick,_ she wanted to say. _Despicable, disgusting, evil—_ "I should kill you myself." The words rang with a cold, resounding honesty that reverberated through her entire being. The words rang with a cold, resounding honesty that reverberated through her entire being.

"Might I ask, Lady Malfoy, if you are familiar with the Brugmansia plant?" The casual calm of his voice clashed harshly against the ball of rage that roiled within her, and she knew her expression was incredulous as she looked back at him.

"Angel's Trumpet, they call it," he mused. "Beautiful flower, isn't it?"

Hermione's head struggled to keep up with his words through the thick film of her grief. Angel's Trumpet, it was—

"Are you not familiar with that one?" he said, raising an eyebrow. He tutted. "And here the papers were raving about your supposed intelligence." He enunciated the word as though he believed she was anything but. "The Exile tree, perhaps?"

"Brugmansia. Oleander. Both are toxic." Her voice was empty, yet steady despite the ongoing turmoil within her.

"Ah," he said, his smirk widening impossibly further, "so you _are_ half as bright as they claim. Too lethal for your fragile moral compass, I presume?" Each chuckle of his was grating. "Perhaps your morals force you to play only with what brings you just to the brink of death? A tip of fire seed here, a drop of silver dragon blood there…"

Hermione stared back at the twisted madman before her, his calmly spoken yet unintelligible words dragging her deeper into a cloud of confusion. She tried to cling to the reason she'd come, tried to remind herself why she'd held on to any hope of hearing reason from the man who'd tried to harm her infant daughter.

And as she looked into the mocking that danced on his features once more, the ice that encased her chest exploded at the same time that the dread within burst in a torrent, dragging her rage and horror with it. She stood abruptly, her chair toppling to the ground with the force of her action. She stormed up to the wall and slammed a fist against it, a ripple of magic reverberating through it at the force of her fist.

"You will keep my husband — and my _child_ out of your wretched thoughts!" Her lungs burned with the force of her scream. "You will receive the Kiss, and then you will rot. This is the fate you have brought upon yourself, and one you will _never_ escape from."

Hermoine turned on her heel and stormed to the door.

She'd raised her hand to rap on the door when he spoke again. "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts, Lady Malfoy."

Even with her back turned, she could sense the mocking in his tone that laced his final riddle.

Without turning back, Hermione rapped hard against the door.

* * *

 **As always, for updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or join my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	54. Chapter 54

**So I screwed up majorly and posted the completely wrong version of this chapter that was missing a good chunk of the ending - please re read the last scene if you've read this before; nothing else has changed. I'm so sorry I didn't notice. I edited this so many times and _still_ pulled the wrong version. I apologize for any confusion because the ending especially was incomplete and wouldn't have made sense the way it was left.**

 **Thank you guys for waiting so patiently.** **Bless RESimon for her beta skills. Without her, I would not have been able to come this far.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR**

Her steps felt overly loud as her low heels clicked on the marble tile of the Manor's entryway, signaling their arrival. Kingsley's large hand was warm and firm on the small of her back as he walked beside her, his towering presence made all the more consuming by the way his shadow loomed. She could feel his anxiety rolling off of him in waves.

As if on cue, she heard several sets of footsteps as she drew closer to the grand staircase, and she looked up to see the anxious faces of several of her husbands as they poured out of a sitting room and circled around her. Despite how clear it was that they all had much to say, the silence was deafening. She could practically feel the way they held their breaths as they searched her expression, waiting for her to speak first.

"I'm fine," she said, keeping her head down. She couldn't let them see the truth that lingered in her expression, let them know how not okay she truly was.

A finger caught under her chin and tilted it up. "Hermione." Sirius' smooth voice curled over her name like a caress.

She looked up at him. "I'm fine," she repeated. "He..."

"You don't have to say a word if you're not ready," Arthur said. His voice was as soft and kind as ever, laced with obvious concern.

"He..." she started again. She couldn't lie. She wouldn't. But what could she say, when even she didn't know what had just transpired? "He...he didn't say much. Just... that it was him."

"It—" Harry started and stopped.

"He did this?" Draco interjected. "All of it?"

A familiar lump rose in her throat. She chanced to look up, her eyes flickering around the group as she wondered if she could face him—

Lucius wasn't there. Severus caught her by the chin then, peering into her eyes but not probing into her mind as he studied her.

She pulled away. "I— I need a moment," she said, ignoring the way they called after her as she all but ran up the steps. It took her a moment to gather her wits enough to Apparate, and when she did she found herself upon the plush carpet of the playroom.

"Mistress!" Knobby squeaked as he paused where he was untangling James and Scorpius from the slithering dragon. "We is not expecting you for-"

"Leave me, please." Her voice was devoid of emotion as she spoke.

A moment later there was a dim pop of Apparation as he departed, leaving her with only the sounds of the children as they continued to play in the background. She dimply registered a small body depositing itself in her lap. She stroked the child's soft hair, staring aimlessly out the window as she lost herself in thought.

 _The whole is greater than the sum of its parts._

Even then, she could still feel the grating of his low tone, mocking as he watched her try to unravel his riddles. The taunting in his eyes as he'd watched her, his smirk growing wider with each moment that passed.

 _The whole is greater than the sum of its parts._

So many words had been spoken, yet nothing had been said at all. She gathered her arms tighter around the child she held, unable to focus long enough to identify which of her twin sons it was. She heard only Lestrange's mocking tone, saw only the way his scarred features twisted as he spoke, his words growing more confusing with each sinister twist of his melted face.

"Hermione."

She looked up to see Harry and Sirius hovering in the doorway.

"Are you certain you're alrigh-" Sirius stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. "We know you're not, but we just..."

Hermione looked down into her lap. She was holding Scorpius, and even he was looking up at her with wide silver eyes, waiting for her to speak. She snuggled him closer. "I'm not alright," she said, her voice soft. This, at least, wasn't a lie. "I'm not alright, but I will be— I just... I need to move on. He's..." she hesitated. _The whole is more than the sum of its parts._ "—he's unhinged," she said, settling. "I don't know what I wanted from this, but I just— I just need—"

She stood as she began to tremble, crossing the room and pushing past them into the hall, where Neville and Draco hovered. She said nothing, instead making her way past them as she tried to suck in long breaths and take in the reality that she now faced.

Rodolphus...and Lucius.

She descended the steps as her mind tried and failed to connect Lestrange's words. She knew that part of his goal had been to poison her mind. Yet there had been something that glinted in his eyes, hinting at a calculated intelligence that lingered beneath his seemingly manic utterings. Something that Lucius stood at the center of. Lucius, the enigma she'd been married to for two years, yet knew as little about him as she had in the beginning of their marriage. Lucius—

Hermione froze as a throat cleared before her. She looked up to find herself standing but a few feet from the man himself. His eyes rested on hers for a searching moment, the silver of them dark and probing as he analyzed her. She opened her mouth, the questions she had bursting to come out as she thought them.

 _If I ask you all the questions that I want to, will you answer them?_

The words she'd spoken to him so long ago in a moment that felt similar to this came to the forefront of her mind, reminding her of the same look he'd worn then that he now wore — that he'd always worn, she thought. Closed, an ever-present air of brooding mystery lurking in their silver-grey depths. Somehow, today he appeared even more closed off than she'd grown used to.

Did he know what Rodolphus had meant? Has he been expecting it, rehearsing for this final confrontation with her as he waited for her to return? Or perhaps he'd been avoiding her altogether. Even now, he was halfway across their sitting room, appearing as though she'd interrupted his imminent departure.

Her eyes flickered to his once more, and she held them as she tried to search them for even a sliver of an answer. Was this how he'd always been? Was it a mask he'd learned to wear once he'd mastered legilimency? The questions passed through her mind quickly, filtering through. She couldn't feel the press of him probing at her thoughts, yet she wondered if he could see them written plainly in her eyes nonetheless.

No, she knew. He wouldn't answer her. Anything she wanted to know would have to be discovered on her own.

His eyes strayed from her to her chest, and hers followed his to find Scorpius watching Lucius from where she held him. She hadn't even realized she'd taken the child with her as she'd left.

Lucius' eyes were somehow simultaneously hard and soft as he looked at Scorpius. She watched the infant look back, the small fluttering ladybug he'd been clutching falling from his tiny fist as he watched his grandfather.

"Would you like to hold him?" Her voice was hoarse, sounding almost foreign as she spoke.

Lucius paused and looked up at her for a silent moment before nodding.

"Draco's upstairs," she said, answering his unspoken question as she thought of Draco standing in the hall outside the playroom, hovering as she stormed past. "He can't object to what he doesn't know. And I'm his mother. I have a say too."

A moment ago Lucius had been an enigma. Yet now there was a crack in his facade, showing flickers of a grandfather that longed to hold his grandson. She handed Scorpius to Lucius, shivering when Lucius' fingers brushed hers. His brow quirked sightly but he said nothing, instead turning his attention to his grandson.

Scorpius watched Lucius quietly while Lucius watched him back, and Hermione watched them both.

She thought of all the times over the course of their marriage that she had pressed Lucius for answers to anything — about all that had lead him to this, this state of constant mystery, a man so dark and brooding that he had to have clandestine meetings with his own grandson lest his son see. How many times had she probed him only to be given vague answers that solved none of the questions she held, leaving her bursting with more—

Not unlike how she'd felt with Lestrange.

 _The whole is more than the sum of its parts, Mrs. Malfoy._

No, there were no answers to be found here. Anything she wanted to know she would have to find on her own.

"Call Knobby when you've finished," she said. "He'll be discrete."

Without another word, she turned and left, knowing that she alone would be able to supply the answers she sought.

 **X**

The sun shone brightly, illuminating the fields of vibrant flowers that bloomed on the grounds. There wasn't a color that was unrepresented, and she had often found herself standing on the same path she now walked for an immeasurable amount of time, taking in the ethereal beauty of the variety of plants that bloomed around her.

Today, however, she sought one in particular. She moved through the bushes with a tepid determination, her eyes sharp as she recalled the species she'd memorized every element and variation of the night before. A slender plant with small pink flowers, beautiful enough to bloom in a field of exotic varieties.

And deadly enough to be picked by accident by one who knew no better.

She wondered if Lucius would have the gall to hide such a thing in plain sight, then almost laughed as the thought flitted past. She knew so much about this estate, yet so little about its owner that anything could be found and she wouldn't truly have the right to be surprised by any such discovery.

Her heart stopped as she saw it. The bush was almost nondescript amongst the flowers that bloomed around it, it's small pink flowers detracted by the larger, brighter blooms all around it. Still, it shone to her like a beacon, bringing a wave of nausea with it. She stepped closer and picked a stem.

"Out, out, out!" Neville's voice cut through the thoughts clouding her mind, startling her. She shoved the flower in her pocket and turned away from the bush, heaving.

She turned to see two ivory peacocks come clucking out the open doors of the greenhouses. Her husband stood in the doorway with a scowl twisting his lips, his arms locked protectively over the child strapped to his chest.

"Bloody—" He started to mutter as his eyes caught Hermione. Instantly, his face melted into the smile that rarely failed to make her heart skip a beat.

Now, however, all she felt was a dim flutter under the weight of the dread that had settled upon her chest. She forced a smile nonetheless, trying to ignore the way his eyes dimmed slightly when he caught the way it didn't meet her eyes.

"What brings you here?" He tickled the tiny foot that stuck out from the cloth that held the child to his chest. "Say hi to mummy, yeah?" He cooed to the child, pulling out the infant's hand and waving it. The child giggled and wriggled in the carrier, revealing Carina's soft blonde curls.

"Hi baby," Hermione said, tickling Carina's foot until her daughter giggled again. She took the hand that Neville held out to her and gave him another soft smile. "I thought I would stop by to see you."

Neville quirked an eyebrow, a teasing smile on his lips. "Come to visit the newest creatures I've dug up, perhaps?"

This time, Hermione feigned admiring the lush, jungle-like area of the greenhouses they were walking through in order to hide yet another false smile. "Ha-ha."

Neville chuckled. "That's quite alright. Carina quite loves them—"

" _Neville."_

He laughed louder. "I kid, I kid. She is having a grand time chasing ladybugs, though."

"I'm glad," Hermione said softly. Her heartbeat sped up anew as the jungle bled into fields of blooming flowers. Her eyes scanned the rows, so intent on naming every species she could pick off the top of her head that she missed Neville's question entirely until he caught her by the hand.

"Hermione?" She turned to see him frowning down at her. Carina was peeking out at her mother, her silver-grey eyes curious as she looked up at Hermione. "Are you alright?"

"I—" The true question that lingered on her tongue bubbled up, and she tried to suppress it only for it to come tumbling out anyway. "Do you— do you grow…" she hesitated over the words.

Neville snorted. "The Malfoys grow _everything_ here."

Hermione swallowed. "Lavender," she lied. "I'd like to add a few fresh sprigs to my bath later."

Neville paused, his eyes suddenly focused on her in a peculiar expression. "You've really grown into the Malfoy lifestyle, haven't you?"

Her answering laugh was hollow. "I suppose I have."

"There's some a little ways away, only a few minutes walk though— actually, I might have some of what I picked yesterday preserved in the lab…" He wandered off through a gap on the trees.

Hermione turned and scanned the fields harder, her heart thundering in her chest as she roamed further. _The Malfoys grow everything here._ She shoved her hand in her pocket and crushed it around the flower inside. Maybe it had been a coincidence, maybe—

She only needed to turn and walk a few steps to see them.

Angel's Trumpet.

Her world blurred until all she could see were the thick, trumpet-like flowers, hued light orange at their stems that blossomed into a rich yellow. She blinked slowly, wishing them away by the time she reopened her eyes. Instead, they were only brighter, somehow larger as her focus honed in on them. Her hand had found its way into her pocket, crushing the small flower inside harder as she stared at the plant, feeling everything start to blur around her, panic slowly seeping in and blurring her vision even more—

"I found some!" Neville's chipper voice sounded from behind her.

She sucked in a shuddering breath and turned to him, plastering on a fake smile.

"Thank you," she said, hoping he missed the way her hand shook as she took the small bundle of lavender from his outstretched hand.

She turned away. "I'll see you later—"

"Hermione—" Neville pulled her to face him so suddenly that she nearly tripped.

She blinked up at him.

"What's in your pocket?" His voice was hard.

A twist of her fingers vanished the flower in her pocket from her grip, and she pulled out her hand to show it empty. "It's nothing, Neville."

"A petal fell out, just over there." He jerked his chin toward where they'd come from.

Hermione schooled her expression into a mask of indifference. "It's nothing," she repeated stiffly.

Neville exhaled sharply through his nose. "You picked a flower of oleander on your way here. I saw you. I was on my way out when I saw you stop. I was going to tell you that the elves had planted it there accidentally, but you seemed to know exactly what you were doing." He let go of her arm where she'd barely noticed he'd still been holding it and hitched Carina up on his chest.

Her throat was dry around the words that she tried to form, and she said nothing.

"You've barely spoken since you came back. This," he gestured toward her, his eyes taking on a sad expression, "is what we knew would come of it." He fell silent, and she caught the way his jaw was set hard as he watched her, waiting.

He sighed when she said nothing. "How were you planning to do it?" he asked. "Break into his cell and force-feed it to him?" He stepped closer to her, cupping her cheek. "Is this the only way you think you can find peace? This isn't you, Hermione."

"I know," she said softly, her words truthful. It wasn't her. But was it Lucius?

His hands closed over hers and he pulled her close, hugging her gently around Carina between them. "You'll be okay," he said, kissing her hair. " _We'll_ be okay."

"I know," she said back quietly, her thoughts still fixated on the bright yellow plant that grew beyond them.

 **X**

Draco let out a low whistle. "Well," he said slowly, eyes sweeping over the room, "who would have thought of the potential in this place?"

Sirius scowled at Draco. "It's not the _place_ that had potential so much as the man with the ideas for it, you twat."

"I've always quite liked Grimmauld myself," Harry said, looking around the renovated parlour with his jaw hanging slightly open, "but even I didn't see _this_ kind of potential in it."

Sirius' scowl deepened. "The both of you can bugger right off," he said.

"It's gorgeous," Hermione said, squeezing Sirius' hand. She forced a smile, hoping it would pass his perceptive eye.

Sirius flashed her a bright smile. "Thank you, love," he said, kissing her temple quickly. "I think Emma likes it too," he said, shifting the toddler in his arms so he could tickle her.

"Yup!" Emma said through her giggles.

"Shall we tour the upstairs?" Sirius said though Harry and Draco were already halfway up the steps.

Draco arched a brow. "Coming, Granger?"

She forced her lips not to tremble as she spoke. "I'm going to stop by the library for a bit."

Sirius chuckled. "She's visited quite regularly since I started the renovations anyway—"

"I'll be upstairs!" Harry interjected loudly, making a show of all but flying up the steps.

Draco's eyes followed Harry before he turned and narrowed his eyes at Sirius. "I take it there's a tale here?"

Sirius smirked. "Let us just not mention rooftops of any kind to him anytime soon."

Draco's brows raised higher as they started making their way up the steps. "This story involves our dear wife, doesn't it?"

"Doesn't it always?" Sirius said as their voices started to fade.

It was another moment before she was left in silence. Silence, punctuated by the thuds of her heartbeat with each step that brought her nearer to the library.

Despite the fact that Sirius had all but gutted it as he had with the rest of the previously decrepit home, the library still felt achingly familiar. The scent of aged tomes still hung in the air, mingled with the smell of the firewood that crackled in the hearth. Gone was the musk of aged furniture, yet familiar feelings of the days she'd spent wrapped in blankets and charms that never seemed to completely banish the perpetual chill lingered.

Her eyes swept over the walls that were stacked from floor to ceiling with books. She'd once known exactly where every category and subcategory was, having meticulously organized them herself. Now, though…

Her eyes flickered to the ceiling as she thought of the rooms the men would be exploring upstairs. It had become rare, of late, Grimmauld to be empty between all those that Sirius had filtering in and out on a schedule as he renovated. She hadn't the time to peruse. This was the only other library she could reasonably find what she needed, away from prying eyes. She needed to search now — and quickly.

She stepped back and lifted her wand. "Accio books on poisons!"

While she had been expecting dozens of volumes to come flying off the shelves in her direction, she had decidedly _not_ been expecting a sizeable chunk of plaster to tear off the wall and several tomes to come flying at her from beyond it. There was a cacophony of books clattering to the ground as she threw up a shield before they rained down upon her.

In all, it sounded like a clap of thunder.

She scrambled as she waved her wand to send the books to their rightful places, bending over the dusty covers of the plaster-covered books as she scanned the covers, each title whispering of dark magic. She snatched the first book that she saw that had the word _Poisons_ etched into its cover, quickly charming another with the same cover as she all but shouted the spells to right the room back to its immaculate state.

Her heart raced faster as she swore she heard cracks of Apparition, voices—

The wall was still repairing itself as her husbands burst into the room.

"What the hell happened?!" Draco said, wide eyes flying to the hole in the plaster as the shredded wallpaper started sliding back into place.

Harry tugged her by the arm until she faced him, wide eyes roving over her. "Are you alright?"

"'M fine," she answered. Her eyes were on Sirius, who had gone rigid as he studied the now-smooth place on the wall.

"What were you doing?" Sirius' voice was devoid of emotion.

"We've been experimenting with new pain potions at the hospital. I summoned all the books that contained fireseed as an ingredient, and…" She shrugged in a way that she hoped was nonchalant even though she felt the complete opposite.

Emma giggled and squirmed in Sirius' arms. "Mama," she giggled again, pointing at Hermione's dress.

She looked down to see stripes of dust still coating the dark material and quickly spelled it away. When she looked back up, Sirius had turned his expressionless look on her.

Her throat went dry for a moment as she forced a smile. "I can still smell the dust on myself," she said. "I'll go have a bath."

She Apparated to her rooms before anyone could say another word. She resurfaced in her bathroom and caught a glimpse of herself. She looked almost normal, save for the slightly stricken look in her eyes. Her hand slipped into the pocket of her dress to curl around the shrunken book within. She needed to know. She needed to figure out the riddle that man had planted in her head since—

"What's in your pocket?"

Sirius' voice startled her and she dragged her hand out of her pocket, letting it fly to her chest. "How did you get here so quickly—?"

Sirius took a few steps toward her, his eyes still trained on where the pocket was now hidden in the folds of her dress. "What's in your pocket, Hermione?"

She let out a breath. "Sirius—"

"I spoke with Neville."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Neville…?"

"He saw you, the other day. Picking a sprig of oleander. He'd been about to warn you," he crossed his arms, his eyes dark and pensive, "but you seemed to know exactly what you were doing." He fell silent, looking pointedly at her as he awaited a response.

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it again. She'd promised she wouldn't lie. Yet if she implicated Lucius…

She couldn't ignore how tenuous things still were among her husbands, the time that passed making the elder Slytherins only grow more comfortable in maintaining a distant coexistence.

She needed to know— she needed to be certain of...whatever Lestrange had been hinting at before she spoke of the twisted riddles the man had poisoned her mind with.

"Sirius— I'm not—"

"Not _what?_ Not researching poisons?" His eyes flashed and he stalked over to her. "Who do you think sealed those damn books behind that wall, Hermione?"

 _I'm not sure what to tell you_ , she'd been about to say. Instead, she stood silently, her lips trembling as her husband bore down over her. His hands landed on her shoulders and tightened. There was a tense moment before he pulled her into him, holding her tightly to his chest.

"This isn't you," he murmured into her hair. "Killing him will solve nothing. Carina's here with us. Safe with us. You are too. Hold on to that."

She nodded into his chest and pulled him closer, curling her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. "I'm researching the effects of micro-doses of certain potions ingredients on pain alleviation," she murmured. The lie lingered on her tongue, poisoning her from the inside out.

"And that's it?" he said back after a moment.

"That's it."

 **X**

She waited until night had fallen and she'd locked and warded her rooms. She'd then sat staring at the cover of the book for a long while as she'd read the cover over and over. The book was aged, fragile to the touch as she ran her fingers over it again and again, the whispers of dark magic that hung around it speaking of the banned magic that was contained within it.

 _Poison._ He'd been fixated on it, his eyes glittering in the low light as he's spoken casually of lethal plants and ingredients. Poison and…Lucius. She needed to know. She needed to know what the connection could be. _Which crimes of moral turpitude do you draw your figurative lines at, I wonder?_ he'd said.

The words twisted in her mind as she opened the book and let her fingers glide over its pages, each spell nothing less than the epitome of lethality. Every page in the book spoke to the discretion Sirius had taken in sealing it away, and the urge to fling it closed and burn it grew higher—

She was pulling the cover closed when she spotted a word that made ice start to crawl in her veins.

Fireseed.

She clenched the cover tighter as her heart started to thunder. It could be a coincidence. It could have nothing to do with Lestrange's words at all. She could seal it away and banish the knowledge, never knowing what he'd truly meant—

She pulled the book open again. The page was nearly bare compared to the others, confining only a simple list of ingredients and two short paragraphs. As her eyes scanned the four ingredients on the list, the ice in her veins crawled higher. Fireseed. Brugmansia. Oleander…

...and silver dragon blood.

Lestrange's words were now a mocking cacophony in her mind. _Perhaps your morals force you to play only with what brings you just to the brink of death? A tip of fire seed here, a drop of silver dragon blood there…_

She forced her eyes to read the first paragraph. _Although comprised of relatively souceable ingredients, when combined with the incantations and brewing method below, the above are the ingredients of the deadliest poison known to Wizardkind. When administered, death is swift, excruciating, and undetectable. The victim's body will freeze as if in a temporary paralysis while the poison ravages through their body before they collapse within seconds, with not a trace of what had occurred lingering._

 _All mentions of the poison were destroyed mere years after its making in the early 1700s, and the punishment for its possession is considered far more severe than murder. The poison was used on hundreds before it was discovered, made noticeable by its distinct luminescent red color. The implications of the potion's existence caused Minister Gamp to have any possessor hunted and killed, in addition to those who merely knew of its incantation. Nearly every tome that spoke of it was burned, and the penalty for even speaking its name was a swift death. These punishments have been upheld through the centuries, the knowledge of its ingredients kept in confidence and under Vow as it passes between Ministers and select individuals in the Wizengamot. Should one be caught in possession…_

The words echoed in her head as she slammed the book shut. _Should one be caught in possession…_

Lucius. Poison. _All of your husbands have committed at least one, if not all of the aforementioned crimes, have they not?_

Her stomach lurched.

 _Which crimes of moral turpitude do you draw your figurative lines at, I wonder?_

The book fell from Hermione's fingers as her world blurred.

 _The whole is greater than the sum of its parts, Mrs. Malfoy._

If Lucius had the poison somewhere in the Manor—

He wouldn't.

But if he had it…

She ripped open the book again, scanning its pages wildly as she sought the page. _Should one be caught in possession, they would immediately be sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss, followed by lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban._

Lucius wouldn't. He wouldn't have it not knowing what the consequences would be—

He wouldn't.

 _He wouldn't._

She'd lied to her husbands about what she'd been researching under the pretence that she couldn't implicate Lucius for something she wasn't even certain that he'd done, something that could upend their family's lives as they knew it—

But if he had it. If he had it—

Azkaban. The Kiss— would the Kiss sever their bond? Could it? Would they try anyway?

She pressed her fingers to her temples as her mind continued to race with the possibilities.

Carina.

He wouldn't risk it when they had a daughter that he needed to be there for—

Unless he'd known he'd never be caught. Who knew of the existence of such a potion besides a select few?

And Lestrange.

Lestrange, who had carefully mocked her with the exact list of ingredients, made light of the fact that Lucius still roamed free despite countless crimes that he'd committed during the War, many of which had likely never come to light—

 _The whole is greater than the sum of its parts, Mrs. Malfoy._

* * *

 **As always, for updates on my writing progress or just to chat with me, you can check my tumblr (blankfishxx), my Facebook (Blank Fish), or join my Discord server: (remove all *'s, of course): h*t*tps*:*/*discord*.g*g/*GH6N7Sn.**


	55. Chapter 55

**All the kudos go to RESimon for being so patient with me. Do go check out her Nevmione - it's in my favorites!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE**

 _The whole is greater than the sum of its parts, Mrs. Malfoy._

The words twisted and unfurled within her like poison. If Lucius _had_ it—

She stumbled to her feet, clutching the book to her chest. She couldn't do this alone. She needed to talk to someone. She needed to know— needed every question answered. Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to do, who to go to—

Seconds later, she reappeared in the dungeons. The potions lab was dark, and her slippered feet moving across the stone floor was the only sound that broke the silence. She burst through the door and was across the sitting room in seconds. She ripped open another door to see Severus halfway out of bed, looking decidedly perturbed as he looked at her.

"What's happened?" he asked, nearly flying across the room in his haste to get to her. "Is it Emma?"

"She's fine," Hermione rushed, her heart in her throat now that she was before him. "But I need to tell you something."

His eyes narrowed. "Speak." He wasted no time on formalities.

"Lestrange taunted me. About Lucius." She shuddered as she recalled the sinister twist of the man's scarred features, the mocking glint in his eyes. "I didn't understand at first. He kept talking in circles, mentioning Lucius and crimes. He mentioned poisons— toxic plants, among other things."

Severus' eyes were dark and probing. " _Continue."_

"I couldn't figure it out at first, what he could have possibly meant. I searched for the ingredients, hoping that he was just spewing nonsense, but we have them all. At least I think we do—" she faltered and looked away only for him to snatch her by the chin and force her to face him. Her heart was thumping erratically in her chest as she looked at him. If he confirmed her suspicions— "Fireseed. Silver dragon blood. Do you have—"

She was cut off by the way Severus snatched her by the shoulders, his eyes flashing. " _What. Else?"_ There was a low, dangerous urgency in his tone.

"Oleander and Angel's Trumpet."

Severus' hand slammed down upon her mouth, his eyes blazing as he backed her into the nearest wall. " _What did you just say?"_

"Oleander. Angel's Trumpet. Fireseed. Silver dragon blood." Her eyes were wide as they searched his, seeing the raw panic that lingered there.

Severus Snape was many things, but expressive was not one of them. Severus tore away from her and stormed out the door. She followed on his heels, watching drawers and cabinets fly open as bottles sailed across the room. Every sconce around them ignited at once, bathing them in bright light as he lifted each bottle and inspected it carefully.

"Sirius and Neville—" she swallowed, thinking of the concerned looks on her husbands' faces as they'd confronted her, "They asked what I was doing, what I was really doing, and I lied because I didn't understand what it could mean— but I should have asked them, I should have told them what I was doing because too many lies have been exchanged and I can't handle—"

He was upon her in the breath of a second, her vision filled with dark hair and nightclothes and even darker eyes. "You think you can glean information from a book and understand the consequences of any situation, but you cannot."

He tore the book from her fingers and dashed it upon the worktable behind them. "There is a reason you have not heard of this poison's origins despite its accessible ingredients. Rare, certainly. But not unobtainable. The Unforgivables are not cast without consequences. The infection of dark magic lingers within the victim — and the caster — until death, as do the traces of nearly all poisons. But not this. This poison's effects are traceless if one only knows which incantation and brewing method by which it may be created."

"All the more reason to speak with our family," she said. "If he has it hidden somewhere, all the more reason for us to gather and make him reveal it—"

" _THIS IS NOT A PETTY SQUABBLE!"_ Severus' outburst stunned her into silence. He was breathing heavily as he fumed above her. "Do you think Lestrange a fool? That he would taunt you about Lucius possessing a poison that would simply be confiscated by the Aurors and followed by a short sentence?" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "Poison is freely available anywhere if only you know where to look. Muggles die every day from illnesses they deem undetectable when the answer is simply that they know not how to detect it. But the same cannot be said of magic. A wizard of high enough skill can detect any poison — except this. Imagine if the Dark Lord had learned of its existence. Or—" He stopped short, his features tense. "If Lucius were to be caught in possession, a lifetime in Azkaban would be luck's draw."

Hermione crossed her arms even as her hands trembled. "And what, then? Let them be blindsided if the Aurors do discover it and arrest him—"

"With whom do you think the others' loyalties lie?" he said slowly. "Three are tied up inextricably within the Ministry. Another is soon eligible to sit on the Wizengamot. Need I continue? If Lucius is convicted— it would upend our lives as we know it."

Hermione swallowed, seeing the truth of the matter shining in Severus' eyes.

Severus stepped closer, rage still licking across his features. " _You will speak nothing of this._ The _promises_ you try to uphold are simply less pressing — there are some things that should never be spoken of."

He stepped back and stormed back through the door to his chambers. Hermione followed him mutely, watching as he summoned his wand.

Her throat tightened as she tried to speak. "Why would he have it? Who would he use it on?"

He paused. "Lucius Malfoy has never been a man without enemies. I do not doubt that it is a precaution."

She thought of her brooding husband, the way a sliver of fear had passed through his eyes as he'd realized Lestrange had been in possession of one of the stray portkeys he'd searched for since the war concluded. "Why wouldn't Lestrange just tell the Aurors? Why...this?"

He paused again, this time for a beat longer than the first. "You know little of Rodolphus. The game gives him as much joy as the outcome."

She was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "Where are you going?"

Severus turned back to her. "If he has it, I will find it and I will destroy it. If — _if_ — he does indeed have it, one word from Lestrange to the Aurors would wreak havoc on this home."

Hermione tensed at the thought. "You know him— better than I. Maybe you can talk to him, convince him to get rid of it— or if we confronted him together—"

Severus' eyes flashed. "You know nothing of Lucius Malfoy if you believe that would _ever_ work. If he has it it is not without reason, and mere words would not be enough to convince him to rid himself of it."

Hermione nodded. "What can I do?"

He paused. "Distract him."

"How?" she asked softly.

Severus arched a brow. "You are his wife. I'm certain you'll think of something."

 **X**

The knob was cool beneath Hermione's fingers. Her hands were slightly clammy, and she ran them on the dark silk of her robe before grasping the knob once more. She let the door creak open slowly, admitting her into Lucius' darkened sitting room. She padded quickly across his sitting room, her bare feet making no sound against the thick carpet. When she reached the door that lead to his bedroom, she let herself pause only to suck in one last shaking breath before she pushed open the door.

The bedroom was as dark as the sitting room, the sliver of moon outside offering only the barest light. She moved closer to the bed, her steps once again silenced by the carpet as she moved. As she moved closer, she could see the outline of his form in the midst of the silken sheets, unmoving. She wondered when she had last seen him asleep — perhaps she hadn't at all. It felt strangely intrusive the closer she moved, as though she were encroaching upon the man she was technically bound to yet knew so little of. Perhaps she was. She paused at the bedside, now close enough to see the spray of his fine blond hair across the dark sheets. Even in slumber his appearance was a coiffed mask of perfection. She wondered if he had ever known what it was like to appear otherwise.

It was then that she realized his hair was not the only thing that glowed in the night. There was a glint on his face— she stepped closer to see —

His eyes were open as he watched her silently.

Hermione yelped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Her wide eyes met his unreadable ones as she let her heartbeat calm. "Lucius—"

He sat up slowly, eyes still inscrutable as he watched her. "May I enquire as to why you have entered my chambers, unannounced, in the middle of the night?"

Hermione glowered. "Of course you find it unexpected that your _wife_ decided to visit."

He sat up, eyes narrowed. "You have not answered my question, Mrs. Malfoy."

Hermione forced her hands not to tremble as her fingers strayed to the tie of her robe. _Distract,_ she reminded herself, letting the material pool at her feet. Little light was needed to see the transparent lace cups of her brassiere down to where her garter belt and tights framed her bare cunt.

She tilted her head up to look at him. "Why else would I visit my husband in the middle of the night?"

He was silent, eyes traveling over her skin carefully. She held her stance, ignoring the way her heart fluttered in her chest.

"As I recall, there are several other men you could have chosen to _visit_."

She answered without missing a beat. "And of them, I've chosen you."

He was bare-chested, and her eyes strayed to the thickly defined muscle of his chest. Lower still, to where she spied the bulge of his cock beneath the covers. He slid out of the bed and towered over her, revealing his nakedness. She leaned up on her tiptoes, her eyes on his until she pressed them closed just as her lips pressed into his. His lips were unmoving, and she pressed more insistently, her mind split between the feel of his lips beneath hers and the thought of where Severus was. She needed Lucius' attention, his affection, while Severus completed the task—

He lifted her suddenly, drawing her up by the buttocks and twisting them until she was on her back upon the bed. She barely had a moment to catch her breath before his hard cock was sliding inside of her. He bent over her, eyes dark as he pressed forward, bare hips slapping into the skin of her thighs.

She looked up at him, taking in the face of the man she would eternally bound to, the man who was the father of her child — the man who she knew nothing about. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer until she could bury her face in his neck.

She couldn't look at him. Not when she didn't know what he'd done — _if_ he'd done it at all.

Would he have risked it? Could he have risked it? Possessing a substance for— reasons she couldn't begin to grasp. A substance that would have him thrown in Azkaban immediately. A substance that—

Hermione pressed closer to him, rolling her hips against his as she tried to lose herself in the sensation. She needed to focus on her task. She was here not to make love. _Distract. Distract. Distract._ His hips started to speed up with his movements, and she tightened around him as he spilled into her with a low grunt.

He stayed above her for a short moment, propped on his elbows. She lay beneath him, feeling his release still leaking out from within her and onto the sheets below. The silence was palpable, and she scrambled for something to fill it with.

"Lucius—" As she started to speak he stood, pulling his cock out of her.

"You may go."

He moved away without a word, his back to her as he went into his bathroom. She lay on his bed, still, his spend still pooling beneath her as she tried to think of her options.

 _Distract. Distract. Distract._

His release slid down her thigh as she stood and crossed to the bathroom, pushing open the door that he'd sealed shut behind himself. He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at her with a flat expression as she entered.

"I believe you've accomplished your task," he said, eyes flicking to the sticky mess that shone between her thighs.

"I didn't come." She looked up at him, forcing a brow to arch.

He was silent as he watched her, unmoving. "I'd expected you to care for your pleasure on your own time," he said slowly, his eyes scrutinizing.

"I would not have come if I hadn't wanted to glean it from you," she said, her voice strong despite the race of her heartbeat.

 _Distract. Distract. Distract._

She walked up to him and descended to her knees, looking up at him through her lashes as she grasped his cock.

 _Distract._

She took him into her mouth slowly, letting her tongue wrap around him as he watched her through hooded lids. She gave only a few licks before she stood and grasped him by the hand.

She was almost surprised when he didn't resist. She guided him back into the darkened bedroom, cloaking her lies in night as she walked them to the bed and pushed him down upon it. He watched her as she straddled him, grasping his cock and dragging it along her folds. She guided him back inside of her slowly, his passage eased by the lingering slickness of their copulation. She raised herself up and slowly impaled herself, letting her lips from open in a small moan. She pressed her hands against his chest until he fell back, still watching her with a rapidly darkening expression. She started to grind down on him, letting her eyes fall shut as her clit brushed against his abdomen.

Distract turned to pleasure as she rode him faster, her moans growing louder as she drew nearer to her peak. She was— so close—

"Lucius," she moaned as she came, letting her mind divorce her from the reality of why she was there and the enigma of a man that was buried inside of her.

She fell atop him, panting heavily as she came down. She panted until her breaths synchronized with the slow rise and fall of Lucius' chest. She crept slow fingers across his heated skin, running them over the dips and ridges of his abdomen and over his side. She paused as her fingers reached his side, feeling the hardened skin of the scar that stretched around his abdomen.

"Will you ever tell me how it happened?" she asked softly, brushing her fingertips across it.

Lucius went rigid. "I believe you've _finished,_ Mrs. Malfoy." The dismissal in his tone was unmistakable.

Hermione sat up until she was straddling him, looking down at him. "We've been married for over two years," she said softly. "Yet I know next to nothing about you—"

"You know enough to attend to your duties with me," he said, snatching her hand from where it was tracing circles on his chest.

She climbed off of him, dislodging his softening cock. "We are bound until death, Lucius," she snapped. "Would knowing me be so bad?" She swallowed. "Would letting me know you be so bad?"

He stood and walked up to her, looking down at her. "You are dismissed."

She caught him by the arm. "You do not get to dismiss me as if I am a servant," she snapped. "You can be so frigid. Except for when you're not. You've given me little but stray glimpses of what I know there is more of beneath all of this. You've erected a wall of secrets between us, and I just want you to give a reason for me to trust you, to—"

Lucius snatched his arm out of her grip. "I'm afraid that trust was never part of our agreement."

She didn't manage to get another word out before he closed the bathroom door firmly behind himself.

 **X**

Hermione stood in front of her bathroom mirror, taking in her disheveled appearance. She hadn't remembered to gather her robe as she'd departed Lucius' rooms. What little she was left wearing felt like a harsh exposure of her ridiculous effort at seducing an impenetrable man. He'd lain with her, yet she was left feeling as though he'd had the upper hand the entire time. Perhaps he had. Had she even managed to give Severus enough time?

As if on cue, a throat cleared. Severus stood in the doorway, his eyes traveling over her disheveled, half-naked form. When he looked up at her, there was no lust — only a strange melancholy shining in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head softly. "No," she answered quietly.

He walked up and gathered her in his arms, his touch exceedingly gentle. "He doesn't have it," Severus murmured into her hair.

Hermione froze for a breath before she sagged in Severus' arms. "Are you sure?" she said into his nightshirt.

"I know of Lucius' tricks and hiding places," he said. "It is in none of them."

Hermione clutched Severus harder, burying her hands in the material of his nightshirt. "His suspicions about there being stray portkeys out there were correct though," she said. "What if there's someone he wants to use it on—"

"Stop." Severus' voice resumed its commanding tone. "Stop driving yourself mad with ideas of what _could_ be true. The point of Lestrange's words was little more than to do exactly _this_ to you."

He pulled back and caught her by the shoulders. "You must speak of this to no one," he said, searching her eyes. " _No one."_

"No one," she agreed quietly.

 **X**

Hermione looked at her reflection, tracing her fingertips beneath a kohl-lined eye, almost failing to recognize herself beneath the thickened lashes and shimmering gold shadow dusted atop her eyelids. Her gown for the evening's Charity Ball hung within view behind them, a glittering swath of emerald in her peripheral.

"We mustn't be touching, Mistress," Pinky scolded softly, her fingers still twirling deftly around Hermione's head and leaving voluminous curls in their wake.

Hermione lowered her hand from her face and intertwined her fingers, her mind only partially present. _The whole is greater than the sum of its parts._ It had been days since Severus' search, yet the knowing glint in Lestrange's eyes still haunted her dreams. Severus _knew_ Lucius — had fought two wars alongside him, even. She trusted that he'd searched every conceivable place Lucius would have concealed it.

Lestrange had looked as if it was so much more than a speculation. He had looked at her with a chilling certainty lingering behind his words. Had he simply been trying to upend her mental stability, leaving her suspicious of the man to whom she was bound—

—or was there somewhere Severus hadn't known to look?

Hermione raised her eyes to look at Pinky once more. The elf bounced happily around Hermione's head, continuing to charm gleaming curls out of her frizzed locks.

"Pinky," Hermione started slowly, "how long have you been employed by the Malfoy family?"

Pinky blinked before resuming her finger twirls. "Twenty-seven years, Mistress."

Hermione drummed her fingers slowly along the glass top of her vanity. "And all of that time was spent working with the previous Mrs. Malfoy?"

Pinky nodded happily. "Yes, our Mistress was—"

" —so you are familiar with exactly where she is now, then?"

At that, Pinky froze, her wide eyes meeting Hermione's in the glass. "M—Mistress—"

Hermione stood abruptly, her frame towering over the cowering elf's. "I know elf magic works differently, as well as I know what the bonds between elves and their Masters become over time. I may be banned from travel, but you are not."

Pinky cowered, her small frame trembling. "We— we cannot be going—"

"You can and you will," Hermione said. " _Now."_

 **X**

They reappeared on a sweeping stone veranda that overlooked the sea. Lush vines dotted with bright flowers crept around the railing, buffering against the sea breeze just enough that it only barely tousled Hermione's half-done hair. Pinky's hand still trembled as she let go of Hermione's, looking around nervously. Hermione's eyes swept from the balcony to the glass-walled estate that rose beside her. She transfigured her dressing gown and slippers into a simple dress and heels, rolling back her shoulders as she thought of Narcissa's scrutinizing gaze.

"I'd thought I'd ridded myself of you."

Hermione vaguely heard Pinky squeak from beside her as she looked up to see Narcissa standing in the open doorway before them. Her hair was in its signature coiffed platinum chignon, the white-blond of it shining against her sun-kissed skin. Her ivory robes were as immaculate as ever, clinging to the woman's every curve.

"Hello, Narcissa," Hermione said.

Narcissa's cerulean eyes were piercing as she scrutinized Hermione, her lips twisted disdainfully. "I do not recall extending you an invitation."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "You know the truth of what happened between Draco and me," she said, reading the same disgust that hadn't seemed to have abated in the two years since their last encounter. "Must you continue to hold me in the same regard?"

Narcissa swept closer, her eyes narrowing. "Make no mistake," she said slowly, stepping closer to Hermione, her heels clicking along the stone, "it has always been my _choice_ to hold you in my lowest regard, and you have done naught to change that."

"I love your son. Nothing will change that."

Narcissa crossed her arms. "As does he you, apparently." Her admission was not without a pained pinch to her features.

"Narcissa," Hermione said, trying to soften the edge to her tone, "I haven't the time—"

"—and neither do I, Ms. Granger. You may go." Narcissa turned and began making her way back into the estate.

Hermione hurried behind Narcissa, leaving Pinky cowering in the place they'd arrived as she grabbed the tall door before it could be slammed in her face. "Wait," she said, wishing she could rid her voice of its edge of pleading. "I need to speak with you."

Narcissa's jaw tightened as she looked at where Hermione held the door. "Clearly," Narcissa answered. "I imagine not even you are daft enough to violate travel restrictions that were set under penalty of Azkaban unless you deemed it of the utmost importance."

Narcissa turned and continued into the estate, walking down a grand hall fashioned of sandy-colored marble. The windowed wall continued along the other side, showcasing the sprawling veranda and the sea behind it. On any other occasion, she would have paused to admire its beauty.

" _Please._ It's— it's about Lucius." Something in Hermione's tone made Narcissa pause where she stood.

The woman did not move for a long moment. When she turned, her eyes burned. "Your gall is truly awe-inspiring," Narcissa spat as she began descending upon Hermione once more. "Get _out."_

Hermione's fists clenched. "If I do so recall correctly, this is my home by marriage as well," she snapped.

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "And you believe that those words will sway me?"

"I would not have come if I was not desperate, Narcissa."

Their eyes met for a long moment of silence.

When Narcissa finally spoke, it was one clipped word: "Speak."

"If Lucius was hiding something— something he wished never be found— where would it be?"

Narcissa scoffed. "You do not know Lucius if you seek whatever it may be _here,_ " she said. "Lucius holds little affection for most things. But for those he does — he keeps them close. His secrets? Much, much closer." She looked out the window as she spoke, her eyes on the sea while her mind was clearly much further than that.

"In the Manor, then," Hermione said. "I— I need to know where. Please."

Narcissa's eyes focused back on Hermione, sliding slowly over her form. "Why?"

Hermione looked away. "I can't tell you."

When she looked back, she found Narcissa still scrutinizing her in silence. "Will this affect my son or my grandson?"

Hermione's throat went dry as she imagined Lucius in Azkaban, Draco's face as he saw him sentenced, Carina's cries as she searched for her father— "Yes," Hermione whispered.

Another scrutinizing silence fell.

"Please," Hermione begged.

"In the library," Narcissa answered after another, longer silence. "In the southernmost corner, behind the fourth and fifth books from the right on the second shelf. The wards are so strong one would think the place doesn't exist."

Hermione didn't voice how much she wished it truly didn't exist. "Do you know how to get past them?"

"Certain circumstances erupted during the last war that required he modify the wards so that his spouse could access it if needed." Narcissa's eyes traveled over Hermione slowly as she spoke. "I am no longer his spouse, and thus no longer a threat. And you?" she scoffed, flicking her eyes over Hermione once more. " _You_ are but an afterthought. There is no conceivable reality to him where I would divulge such things to the likes of yourself."

Hermione's teeth ground together tightly. "Thank you," she said stiffly.

"Leave," Narcissa said, walking away without checking to see that Hermione had departed.

 **X**

Exactly twelve minutes after their departure, Hermione was seated at her vanity once more, watching Pinky's trembling fingers as the elf tried to finish her hair. As if on cue, there was a knock at Hermione's bedroom door, not a breath after she finished transfiguring her clothing back into a dressing gown.

"Hermione?" Harry called.

"Mama!" Emma toddled in behind him, running up to Hermione with a wide smile. The skirt of her sparkling green dress floated around her, bouncing along with the matching pins that shone in her pigtails. "Look!"

"You look beautiful!" Hermione exclaimed, leaning down to plant several kisses across her daughter's face.

"I just opened a letter we got from the Ministry," Harry said, stepping inside with a frown. "They said that there was an unauthorized international departure from our home— by an elf?"

 _Tell no one,_ Severus had said. She gave him a small, fake smile. "Pinky and I were discussing her time working with Narcissa," Hermione said. "I told Pinky to go see her for a few minutes. I was hoping that since elf magic works so differently they wouldn't have noticed a short absence, but…"

Harry was already looking at Pinky, his eyebrows raised. "You really went to see that witch?" Harry asked.

"Yes Master Harry," Pinky squeaked, her eyes wide.

Hermione laughed lightly. "You're not in trouble, Pinky. I'm sorry Harry," she added. "Could you—?"

Pinky was trembling as she looked at Harry, not even noticing the way Emma had caught a loose thread and was slowly pulling apart her knitted dress.

"Sure, no need to worry the others," Harry said after a beat. He walked over to scoop Emma into his arms, ignoring the toddler's protests as he gave Pinky an apologetic smile. "Don't worry, Pinky. I'll see you in a bit, 'Mione?"

Hermione smiled. "Love you," she said.

As he disapparated, she tried to ignore the way her heart still raced.

 **X**

Hermione stood before the gilded mirror in her closet, taking in her appearance. Pinky had darkened her makeup, the glittering gold fading to charcoal along her eyelids. Her cheekbones had been sharpened and accentuated, her lips filled in a deep crimson. She barely recognized who she saw, and found herself raising a gold-tipped fingernail to draw light fingers across her cheekbone, wondering at how it could simultaneously feel like her own skin, yet be touching the foreign face that was reflected back at her.

"Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione looked up at the voice to find Lucius standing behind her.

Her hand paused where she'd been reaching to button the remainder of her dress. "Lucius," she greeted cordially. "Would you?" She nodded toward the short row of undone buttons at the back of her dress.

It was a sheet of thousands of iridescent sequins that shifted between emerald and silver as she moved, the material appearing almost liquefied as it clung to her skin. Her decolletage was entirely exposed, the robes beginning where the corseted bodice swept low across her chest and clinging tightly along her frame, gathering in elegant folds before falling to the ground around her, save for the cut high on her thigh over one leg that exposed it as she moved. The glittering necklace Lucius had given her for Christmas was fastened around her neck, its fist-sized emerald nestled in her cleavage.

She looked ever the perfect pureblood wife, draped in the colors of Slytherin house.

She watched Lucius in the mirror as he approached. Not a hair was out of place, nor was a single thought betrayed by his schooled expression as he caught her eyes in the mirror before looking down, his fingers cool on her back as he buttoned her robes. She watched him carefully, her mind adrift with thoughts as she wondered what lay beneath the surface of her impenetrable husband.

He paused when he looked up to find her watching him. She held his gaze, keeping her own expression carefully neutral. "Shall we?" she asked.

He proffered his arm to her and she pressed a light hand in the crook of his elbow. They moved in silence as they made their way out of her rooms and down the hall to the top of the grand staircase where the entryway was already filled with guests mingling below. As they began their slow descent down the steps, the patrons below started to slow and watch the Lord and Lady of the Manor as they approached.

It all felt false to her, so false that the faces of the people that looked up at them blurred and warbled into nothingness the closer they moved. Her hand almost burned where it lay in the crook of Lucius' arm, the man she called both _husband_ and _stranger_ at once. His presence felt almost as foreign as much of the crowd who surrounded them.

"Mr. Malfoy," An American-accented woman dressed in elegant sapphire-hued robes stopped them not two steps into the thick crowd. "You never fail to disappoint," she said, gesturing around the party.

"Indeed," The tall man Hermione presumed to be the woman's husband agreed. "We must thank you again for your investment."

Only Hermione felt the annoyed tensing of Lucius' muscles before he was melting into his facade of cordial charm. "Of course," Lucius said. "I received your quarterly report last week. I must say that there are some numbers that are a deal weaker than was previously expected," he added, arching an eyebrow.

The man's smile tightened. "There were, ah, some complications in our South African office," he said. "Nothing noteworthy, of course."

"Mm," Lucius hummed.

The woman started speaking again and her voice drowned into the background as Hermione's eyes strayed to Lucius, watching every minute twitch of his expression as the conversation continued. Even while so carefully observed, not a hair appeared out of place as he spoke, each minuscule shift appearing to be perfectly rehearsed, intended to elicit a reaction from those he directed them at. There was no telling apart truths and falsities, only a subtle show of superiority.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" Hermione only registered the woman calling her name as Lucius turned, his schooled facade suddenly focused entirely upon her.

The woman laughed lightly. "It's lovely to see your affection after two years," she said. "Your daughter will be one soon, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Indeed," Hermione hummed. The heat of Lucius' gaze and his hand on the small of her back nearly burned, overwhelming her with the need to escape. She stepped away from him, shrugging off his touch. "Do excuse me," she said, barely bothering with formalities as she melted into the crowd.

She kept her head down as she pushed through the crowd, seeking Severus. There was a persistent throbbing at the base of her skull, the pain of it radiating as each minute passed. Perhaps she would find nothing. Perhaps her entire family would be upended if Lestrange revealed a truth that she prayed did not exist. What she knew was that she needed to find Severus and tell him of what Narcissa had revealed to her.

She stopped short as she saw Severus but a dozen feet in front of her. The layers of Emma's dress sparkled brightly in the light as he held her close while she twisted about, smiling and waving at the guests that passed them by. He snatched her hand back as she tried to snatch an hors d'oeuvre off a passberby's plate, glaring at the man as he hurried away in the wake of Severus' look. Slughorn stood across from him, obliviously chatting away animatedly at Severus as he held his own sleeping daughter in his arms.

Hermione took another step forward, watching as Severus tucked Emma into his chest and adjusted one of her pigtails. Guilt twisted in her stomach as she watched the scene. He'd assured her, and she'd gone to Narcissa anyway. She needed to trust her husband. If there was anything to be found…

She swallowed and turned away, hurrying through the crowd. She would think of the next steps later. First, she needed to be certain.

She slipped down the hall before turning down the next. She nodded politely at two women as they passed, ducking her head and hurrying away before they could engage her in conversation. Another turn, and she ducked behind a statue before Apparating to the library.

She plunged the room in darkness and locked the doors with a few quick spells. She charmed a candle to follow her as she rushed to the southernmost corner of the room, the low click of her heels on the wooden floor the only sound in the room. That, and the sound of her blood pounding in her ears as she stopped in front of the shelves. Her fingers ghosted across the spines of the books, pausing as she reached the second shelf. She counted the spines her fingers brushed past the first three titles.

She felt it the moment her fingers hit the fourth book. Several layers of wards hung heavily over the book and the one adjacent to it, the magic curling around her wrist in a way she didn't doubt would have been lethal had it not been adopted to her signature.

She tried to ignore the way her fingers trembled as she set to dismantling the wards. It was a dozen interwoven spells, each layer heavier than the last as she worked through them. Her frame tensed harder with each moment that passed, grandfather clock a dozen feet away denoting each second that ticked by.

When the last ward fell, she pulled her hand away. Her stomach felt as though a rock had settled inside of it, weighing her down with the burdens of a truth she didn't know existed or not.

When she pulled the two books away, she saw only darkness. She lit the tip of her wand, slowly bringing it closer to the darkened space with a shaking hand.

Perhaps it wasn't there. Perhaps he had done nothing at all—

A low red glow shone at the back of the darkened space. She forced her fingers to tighten around her wand as she pressed it deeper into the space, hoping, praying that it was anything else—

There was a lone vial in the space that glowed a bright, fluorescent red.

She stumbled backward one step, then another, shaking her head slowly as she moved.

 _No._

 _No._

 _No—_

The alert of the detection spell she'd placed on the library's perimeter slapped her like a shockwave in the same moment, sending her scrambling out of her stupor to replace the books and the wards in a messy rush. She stumbled backward toward the doors, her mind torn between what she'd discovered and wondering who was approaching. Her clammy hands slipped as she pushed the doors open, her head throbbing. It couldn't be _him,_ the chances of it slim when the Manor was bursting with so many—

Ron stood outside, his eyes slightly wide as she swung the doors open. She froze, her heart in her throat as a beat of silence passed between them.

Slowly, Ron's surprise morphed into a smile. "You appear to have been caught, Mrs. Potter-Black-Snape-Malfoy-Longb—"

"What are you doing here?" she said, eyes swinging up and down the hall. They were alone, and only the low sounds of the festivities floated toward them.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Looking for you," he said, pushing past her and into the library. "Naturally, this is the first place I thought to look."

She followed him inside, folding her features into a mask of annoyance. "Ron."

Ron ignored her. "Wow," he said. "And to think, _our_ library only has one floor." He twisted as he looked around the cavernous room.

Her eyes snapped to the southernmost corner of the room as Ron wandered near it. The books there looked as pristine and undisturbed as the rest of the library, and her fists clenched tightly as she thought of what lurked beyond them. _Why? Why? Why?_ She clenched her arm tightly, feeling her nails digging into the skin—

"'Mione?"

She looked up to see Ron frowning at her, his eyes on where she clutched her arm.

Ron crossed the room and gently pried her fingers off of her arm, revealing bloody crescent-moon shaped cuts where her nails had been. He guided her forward and pressed her down gently into one of the leather settees before sitting down beside her.

He took her hand gently and gave her a sad smile. "I know you haven't been the same since your encounter with…" he trailed off.

Her eyes were still on the corner of the room that lay beyond them. "I'm alright," she said mechanically, trying to ignore the way her heart flipped in her chest the longer she stared at the seemingly serene shelf.

"Harry told me that you haven't been the same," Ron said. "He doesn't know how to help you."

Hermione looked at him then. "He talked to you?"

Ron raised his hands in surrender. "He didn't tell me anything else, I swear— just that he's worried, and nothing that isn't in the papers already."

Hermione swallowed. "I'm not mad, Ron," she said. "I'm just…I want it to be over, too."

"It is, 'Mione," he covered their joined hands with his other ones. "His trial will be soon, and then he'll finally be in Azkaban. You remember that, right?"

 _Would Lucius end up in Azkaban too?_ "Yes," she answered, squeezing his hand and hoping that the small smile she forced came off as reassuring.

Ron's eyes lit up as he bought her farce and he drew her into a hug. "Let's go back out, yeah?"

Hermione smiled again as he pulled back and they stood. "I should check on Emma," she lied. She had to find Severus. She had to—

She collided into Ron's back as he stopped short of stepping out of the doors. It took her only a split second to see why he'd stopped so suddenly, his path blocked by a tall, muscular frame outfitted in perfectly tailored emerald green robes.

Lucius.

* * *

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